


Peccatum

by MeetTheTank



Series: Draco et Diaboli [1]
Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Slow Burn, War, genre typical violence, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeetTheTank/pseuds/MeetTheTank
Summary: 9S is a young scout with a promising future and a dark secret, and when a chance encounter turns into a lifetime ally, his life spirals in ways he cannot possibly imagine.Book 1 of 4





	1. Dragonic Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> SO! After a long few months of planning and revising, I'm finally ready to start on this big project! Huuuge infinite thanks to my buddy Axe (Arisoto on Ao3) and Kiloueka for the motivation I needed (and will need) too keep on with this! Artwork done by Axe as well, check out her tumblr for more!! 
> 
> http://cephalio.tumblr.com/

_You may not be strong enough._  
_There is no way to tell until then._  
_But know this, dear one._  
_Defeat is never the end._

_-Coatyl proverb_

* * *

 

If he wasn’t expected to be back at camp within a few days, 9S might have stopped to admire the ocean.

The great expanse offered so much to discover to a simple soldier like himself. He wanted to stop and watch how the waves wore away stone into the sheer cliffs looming in the distance. He wanted to examine the tiny creatures that scuttled under rocks when he came too close, or study the flight patterns of the great sea birds that soar above the waves waiting for some unfortunate fish to swim too close to the surface.

He kicks at the smooth stones that make up the beach. Part of him thinks it unfair that he has to see all of these amazing landscapes and never have any time to spend in them. The other, more rational part, reminds him that it’s dangerous to linger too long in one place. That is why he’s here after all, to see just how dangerous the surrounding area is.

With the exception of the sea birds, there wasn’t any living thing around that grew larger than his thumb. Not that he wished to encounter a roving squad of demonic troops on his own, but it would make for some excitement. Something to take his mind of the creeping loneliness.

A cold sea breeze cuts right through his clothes. Tugging his scarf tighter around his face, he continues his journey South. If he kept pace he should be back in the safety of the encampment on time. And hopefully warmer weather.

9S idly watches the sea birds as he walks. One in particular seems much larger than the others, less graceful as well. As if it can’t correct itself each time a strong gust of wind throws it off course. It’s erratic patterns annoy the smaller birds as well. They scatter and regroup everytime this large awkward thing thrashes in the wind.

Now that he thinks about it, the shape of its body is vastly different from the other birds. It’s too long, too angular in comparison to the smaller birds.

He doesn’t have long to watch the beast, however, as it dives head first into a breaking wave a few yards away from him. It’s such a reckless move for an animal to make that it takes him off guard, sending him staggering backwards. He throws his hands up to shield his face from the following spray of seawater.

He’s about to shake his clothes dry and continue on with nothing but a annoyed glance back at the strange bird when he hears a horrid screech from the ocean. The surf froths around where it landed, creating a roiling white foam on the waves. Occasionally, 9S sees the sea bird’s beak break the surface followed by a desperate shriek. At first he was worried some unseen creature was attacking the beast, but the only thing it seemed to be struggling against was the surf.

9S waits on the shore, watching the creature for any sign of recovery, but the more he stood and watched the weaker its struggle became. Eventually, the wild thrashing and terrified screeching fade until the strange sea bird could barely hold its beak above the waves.

He knows that he should just let nature take its course. Diving into the ice cold waters of the Northern Ocean to save a creature that would likely eat him just as soon as look at him. Still...watching it pitifully gasp for air as wave after wave overtake it…

A faint sigh escapes the scout as he makes up his mind. Setting down his knapsack and bracing himself for the cold, he strips down to his undershorts. Better to deal with only one layer of soaked clothing than to suffer through multiple layers of wet clothes in this cold weather.

Suppressing a shiver as the wind and sea spray chills him to the bone, 9S hastily retrieves a length or rough hewn rope from his pack. Dragging the beast by his hands seemed like a bad idea, the more distance he could put between himself and its claws the better. Bracing himself with a deep breath, he charges into the ocean.

The cold hits him with more force than he expected as a wave breaks square in the chest. He yelps and nearly falls backwards, but he manages to keep his balance by digging his heels into the smooth rocks that make up the shore. Shivers wrack his body the further submerged he becomes. One misstep sends him sinking under the current and a gulp of seawater down his throat.

9S braces against breaking waves, dives under cresting ones, and runs with the current that pulls him further out to sea. His body numbs to the sensation of the ice cold seawater eventually, until he’s certain he can no longer feel his lower body. It isn’t long before the ground disappears out from under him and he’s forced to swim. The current pulls him towards the sinking beast, whose thrashing had subsided into weakly trying to hold its head above the waves.

The current pushes 9S right into the beast, his face smashing right into the feathers of its neck. A feeble hiss and a gurgle escapes the creature’s mouth, but it makes no move to attack him. It struggles against him as he wraps his arms and the rope around its powerful neck. As he fastens a knot, his hands brush against rough, heavy plating on the front of the beast’s neck. Uncertainty churns in his stomach. Birds, no matter the size, didn’t have scales or plates like this. However, this doesn’t stop 9S. His hands fumble in the water, and for a moment he almost loses grip on the rope, but he manages to tie a secure knot. Now it was just a matter of keeping its head above water, and dragging this massive creature against the current.

At first it’s simple. 9S coasts on cresting waves, dragging this...thing closer to shore as fast as he can. There’s a brief moment where he laments skipping those swimming drills when he was recruited ages ago, but that quickly gets shoved to the back of his mind to focus on saving this odd creature and not drowning. His hands burn the more the rope cuts into the meat of his palms, and the seawater only makes the fresh wounds sting. He grits his teeth and bears the pain. They weren’t too far away from the shore now, he could even feel the ground beneath his feet again.

The moment 9S found his footing on the rocky shore, the body of the strange beast slows to a halt. No matter how hard he pulls on the rope, the creature refuses to move.

“Grr...come on! Move, you oversized-”

As the surf rolls out, the rest of the beast’s body is revealed. Pure white feathers cover its massive body in all but it’s legs, face, and the front of its neck. Everything else is either grey plating or leathery scales. However, what concerns 9S the most, and what distracts him long enough to almost be toppled by a wave, are its talons.

Four curved claws on each foot that look sharp enough to pierce armor, and each one looks about as long as his arm. Two smaller talons tip the ends of its wings, though they look just as dangerous as the others. A sputtering cough breaks his horrified fascination with the talons, sending him stumbling backwards into the water. The creature rises to its feet, coughing and gasping for air. A spray of seawater and spit leave its hooked beak, and for a split second 9S catches a glimpse of countless razor sharp teeth and two pairs of curved horns that jut out from the mess of feathers.

As the creature towers over 9S, stretching and beating its powerful wings, he can only stare in awe at what is most definitely not a mere seabird.

A coatyl, a species of lesser dragon known for their impressive plumage and wild dispositions. He had just dragged a godsdamned dragon out of the godsdamned ocean.

One hacking cough later and the coatyl’s head swings around to face 9S. It shakes the water from its body with a low huff, then it rears back once again and rapidly beats its wings to dry them off as well. The dragon’s pitch black eyes focus on 9S as he scrambles backwards onto dry land.

For a few moments the two simply stare at each other; the dragon rests its weight on its wings, or rather the primitive claws that tip them. The only movements between the two is the occasional sway of the dragon’s tail. 9S stays as still as possible in hopes that maybe the coatyl would get bored and leave. This only serves to make it more curious apparently. It saunters forward, lowering its head down to his level. 9S yelps and nearly leaps out of his skin as the dragon’s beak bumps against his chest. Confused at the pathetic sound, the dragon recoils back and tilts its head to the side in a surprisingly human gesture.

Did this creature...understand him?

9S puts his hand out, “Th-That’s it...not so close, okay?”

It keeps its distance, but tilts its head further so that it’s practically sideways.

If he wasn’t terrified, 9S might have found it adorable.

“I’m gonna stand up now…” he says, slowly rising to his feet but keeping his hand outstretched.

The dragon takes a step back with a short chirp as 9S stands. It shifts its weight from one wing to the next like an excited puppy, even going as far to make more of those chirping sounds. 9S always figured that dragons were proud regal creatures, not overgrown feathered puppies. Maybe this was a young one, it did seem smaller all things considered. Probably only ten feet tall by his crude measurements.

“Uh...Alright, stay there...I’m leaving you alone now…”

The first mistake 9S makes is turning his back to the dragon. As soon as he starts making his way to his knapsack, he hears the creature thunder up behind him.

“Hey!” 9S whips around and throws his hands up at the approaching dragon. The feathered beast leaps backward with a squawk at his sudden movements, the feathers on the back of its neck stand straight up in a threatening display.

“Come on, leave me be!” He shouts, waving his trembling arms up and down.

The coatyl mimics his motions and shrieks at him. In the back of his mind he realizes that he’s in an argument with a creature that probably isn’t smarter than the average songbird. He suddenly feels incredibly silly.

“Go on! Shoo! Go away!”

It’s hard for a man his size to be intimidating, especially when soaking wet, half naked, and shivering. To the dragon he might as well be a shouting, soaking toothpick. Yet, it backs up regardless. It hisses at him, a low throaty sound that makes his blood run cold.

“Get out of here you overgrown chicken!”  
The coatyl hisses at him again, then leaps into the air. A few beats of its wings and it’s soaring into the clouds above the forests behind him.

9S sighs, sinking to his knees. His heart thunders against his ribs as if he had just finished a siege. As he calms himself with deep even breaths, he can’t help but feel a little bad about lashing out at the curious dragon. Maybe it really did understand his little heroic stunt and wanted to thank him?

“Oh who am I kidding.” he grumbles as he wraps himself in his dry cloak.

That creature seemed as dumb as a box of rocks. It’d mistake him for a snack the moment it got bored of him. It was a good thing then that it was spooked by his pathetic attempt at intimidation. If that hadn’t worked...

Well, at the very least this’ll make for one hell of a story.


	2. Tar and Bone

After weeks of sleeping in the wilderness, a warm bed is an expense that 9S is more than willing to splurge on. Especially after his frigid dip in the ocean and near-death experience with that dragon. It would have been the best night’s sleep he’s had in a long time if he didn’t jump at every sound he heard. Ever since the coatyl disappeared over the forest he’d been looking over his shoulder both literally and figuratively for the dragon to come swooping down and carry him off.

Of course, that didn’t happen. In fact the most terrifying thing he had encountered recently was a particularly ornery cat. Even though it had been a day and a half without so much as a glimpse of the dragon, 9S still couldn’t shake the feeling that it, or something else, was watching him from just outside his view. Perhaps he was just being paranoid.

It is a new town, albeit small. So small it’s not even on his map. New towns, new faces...they made him nervous. Though the residents were hospitable, he still didn’t want to stay here longer than he had to.

At the crack of dawn he was already paying the innkeep for the night, supplies and ornate golden lance already strapped to his back.

“Hey, not that it’s my business,” he says, “but I’m not sure a kid your age should be traveling alone in these parts. We got-”

“I’m 26.” 9S interrupts, scowling at the man that practically dwarfs him.

The innkeeper raises an eyebrow, “Uh....what?”

“I’m 26 years old. I’m not a kid.”

He blinks a few times, “...Anyway, regardless of how old you say you are, lots ‘a folk have gone missing in the woods beyond town.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, some folk have been muttering about demon sightings, but nothing’s tried to attack the town yet so we ain’t sure.”

“Oh,” 9S says, previous slight quickly forgotten, “...Thanks for the heads up.”

“Sure, kid. Be safe out there.”

As 9S exits the small town, he regards the severed head on a pike defaced by crude metal demon horns with barely contained revulsion.

 

* * *

 

Just his luck that he’d have to investigate something when he’s less than a week away from the encampment. Nearly a month and a half of nothing, but of course the moment 9S entertains the thought of being back at “home” is when he has to do his job. He tempts the idea of saying the problem is a bear and leaving it at that, but bears didn’t snatch people right out of the woods. Bears left traces, tracks to follow, bodies to find.

9S never put much stock into the superstitions that surround the great sprawling forests of this area. Most of them were just silly tales mothers told their children to get them to behave. Not that dangerous creatures didn’t live there, especially in times like these where it was very possible to get snatched up by a roving band of monsters. Still, the forest wasn’t going to swallow him, cursing him to wander forever between the trees.

This doesn’t stop the creeping dread that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

The outskirts of the forest are teeming with life of all sorts, to the point where the trees themselves feel alive with the movements of creatures. He counts at least three stags in just a few moments, watching him with unblinking eyes. They bound away, along with two more he didn’t see, when he comes too close to them.

A number of rodents scuttle through the underbrush, more than he thought would be in the area. A rabbit darts between his feet into a deeper part of the woods, but skids to a stop then bolts in the opposite direction. In fact, the animals don’t seem to want to cross into a certain part of the forest. Birds, mammals, even the flies that swarm around him disappear when he crosses into this cursed area.

The moment he crosses this boundary, an unnerving silence descends on the woods. No wind, not rustling of animals scurrying through the brush. Nothing. Only the snap of twigs beneath his feet and the quickly rising drum of his heart.

Through the silence, a dissonant hum makes his ears ring and head spin. The noise comes in waves, barely noticeable at its lowest but deafening at the peak. 9S grabs the side of his head and groans through the pain. At points it sounds like words float through, calling out to him in a garbled language he doesn’t understand.

9S follows the speech to its source, a small cave entrance in the side of a hill. With tentative steps he approaches the maw of the cave until his foot lands on something with a brittle snap. At first he believes it to be a dried up branch, but as he lifts his boot to investigate there’s little doubt to what it actually is. A bone, unmistakeable in its oblong shape and stark color, picked clean and dried white.

As startled as he is, 9S reminds himself that it’s not unusual to find bones on the forest floor. Granted they’re typically not so...clean, but it might have just fallen out of someone’s pack. People use bones for all sorts of things. He takes a deep breath and steps forward, only for several more cracks to echo through the silent woods.

Just under a layer of dead leaves are hundreds of bones of varying sizes and shapes. Most are small, belonging to rodents or birds. Some, however, are large enough to belong to deer, horses, or most distressingly...humans. He wants to sprint out of the woods and the rest of the way back to the encampment, but now that he knows something here, something very likely demonic, he can’t exactly turn tail and run without knowing what’s down in that cave. He’s a scout. It’s his job to know.

The moment he crosses into the cave, the ringing in his ears becomes deafening. It pulses like a heartbeat, throbbing against his skull as if it’s trying to break through. 9S grips at his throat as an acrid stench hits him full force, strengthened by the stagnant cave air. He covers his face with his scarf to at least stem the assault on his senses with little result.

Before he commits to descending into the pitch black of the cave, 9S digs through his pack to retrieve and ignite a simple resin torch. He expects the bones littering the cave floor, but he staggers back at the streaks and clumps of tar that coat the walls and floor. Fear claws at his chest and twists his stomach into knots. Again, he clutches his throat and forces himself to take deep even breaths.

You’re okay… You’re okay….

Through the haze in his mind, he recalls the technique his mother taught him when he was little.

“Whenever you feel scared, say the alphabet backwards. Ready? We’ll practice together.”

The stern, yet gentle voice of his mother alone helps settle his nerves.

Z...Y…X...W…...

I’m okay…

...V...U...T…

I’m okay.

With the torch in one hand and his lance in the other, 9S delves into the tar covered cave.

The cave system itself seems simple, one main tunnel with a few side paths that end shortly after. Part of the rock is smooth stone, worn away by years of wind and water. The furter in he goes, the more he finds jagged edges and sharp corners. Evidence of the stone being chipped away. Very recently at that.

Occasionally he has to side step globs of tar and bone on the ground. The way they’re shoved into hidden corners or off to the sides of paths makes him think that they’re piles of waste. Their smell doesn’t do much to dissuade that conclusion. His curiosity gets the better of him; he prods one pile with the tip of his boot. Just as he expects, it sticks to the leather and appears to have the consistency of...well, tar.

9S hears the same echoing voice ringing in his head from outside, though this time he understands the words being drilled into his head. Like before, the words are garbled to the point where he is unsure exactly how he understands them. They make unnatural, scratching sounds that peak and dip to tones unable to be reached by any natural object. Rhythmic clicks break up the long drones that make his teeth itch.

“So͜m̵e͜..̕.He̛re̷….” The voices crackle.

His grip on the lance tightens as he presses himself against the cave wall.

“A̧p̵e͟.͞..̢Sm̢ęl̸l̕s ̵l͝i͞k̛e..͢.Ape.͡”

He hears them now. Footsteps from deeper within the cave, about four sets he thinks but it’s hard to discern with how much each sound echoes. They’re sharp, like hooves on stone, but as they grow closer to his hiding place he can hear wet splats with each footfall. Fearing discovery, 9S extinguishes his torch, allowing himself to be shrouded in darkness.

Without the light of the torch 9S can’t even see his hands on the cave wall beside him. The footsteps grow closer much faster than he was expecting. The creatures must have been closer than he thought, or were disturbingly fast. He covers his face with his scarf to further quiet his breathing, but it can’t mask the gasp that escapes him when he sees an eerie red glow illuminate the cave.

A sharp series of slurred clicks and a low rumbling drone come from something very close by. More inhuman sounds answer, followed by a rapid series of footsteps. The red glow grows brighter and more intense, until the source...or sources, so themselves.

A pair of burning red orbs loom over him, illuminating the angular contours of an animal skull. 9S suppresses a gasp and presses his body further into the crevice, trying to make himself as small as possible. The creature looks away from him, obscuring its eyes yet highlighting the outlines of broad flat teeth, similar in shape to a horse’s. It clacks its jaws together, grinding its teeth together in a way that makes 9S cringe.

The creature hisses at its companion as it saunter ups to it. They exchange a series of clicks and growls, gesturing with partially obscured claws.

“A҉p̛e͝…̧F̷͡a͘ls̶͠ȩ̧͜…” It snarls at its companion, teeth clicking together.

“F͝o͢ưl…̵͜.͏̶̧s͜͞p͏a҉̨wn.̕” The other responds.

Just when they appear to be moving on, the putrid smells of these monsters hits 9S full force. The scent of rotting meat and sulfur burns his nose to the point that he gags. The moment that choked sound leaves his throat, both monsters whip around and focus their searing red eyes directly on him.

With inhuman speed, one of the monsters launches at him. Vice-like armored fingers wrap snag 9S’ scarf and rip him out of the crevice like he weighs nothing. It throws him to the ground between it and its companion, bleating at the other in that abhorrent language. 9S scrambles to his feet, lance ready to strike at whichever decides to move first.

Their bodies begin to glow a shade of red similar to their eyes illuminating the cave and the spaces between their armor, giving 9S the full view of these beasts. They’re bipedal, well over six feet tall, and appear to be made of solid bone. Whatever foul substance holds them together glistens in the crimson light, shifting and writhing beneath the bone plates. Lines of red light shoot down an arm and spread down the limb in organic patterns, outlining the intricate network of plates that form their clawed hands. But the form doesn’t stay for long, the whole arm shifts into crude weapons before his eyes. One creature constructs a crude broadsword, the other a strange long barrel that pulses with red light at its tip.

Scrambling to his feet, 9S tries to make an escape while the two monsters snarl at him but one of them kicks him square in the back, sending him falling forward again. Almost reflexively, he throws his foot out, connecting with the shin of barrel-armed creature. It stumbles backwards with a howl, and the sword-armed creature lunges at him with its weaponized arm raised high. With a piercing bleat it brings down its bladed arm in a powerful swing, red energy sizzling in jagged patterns that linger in the air.

9S rolls to his side just in time to avoid the strike, the blade striking the stone in a flash of sparks. In the split seconds where the monsters reorient themselves he bolts to his feet, draws his lance, and prepares himself to face these creatures properly.

That is...until three more pairs of searing red eyes appear in the darkness.

He keeps the lance trained on the encroaching monsters as he takes fearful steps backwards. On his own, there was no way he can handle five of these beasts at once. There has to be a way to split them off from each other, to fight them each one on one. He has more of a chance that way, as they’re too fast to outrun.

The squadron of monsters may be strong enough to blast apart stone itself, but they were slow. Their arms turned weapons were so heavy that 9S is able to weave between the strikes of the creatures further into the cave. He darts into the depths of the cavern, relying on the fading glow of the monsters to light his path and stumbling over stray rocks jutting from the path.

9S ducks into a small crevice, just barely large enough for him to fit in. The red glow returns, along with that garbled speech of those beasts. They seem to argue back and forth with each other, mindless phrases for the most part, but one line sticks out to him and fills him with dread.

“G̸͘e̡̨t͢͡…̸͜.͠C̨ap̵̧͠ţa͟iņ͘…̵͘.”

He curses to himself for being so careless, for not acting when he encountered the first one. Now he has to deal with a squad of five and something possibly worse. There aren’t any more options for him now, he has to fight.

Footsteps, only one by the sound of it, approach his new hiding spot. The squad must have split up to cover more ground. Now with the element of surprise on his side, 9S actually had a chance. He waits for the monster to saunter just close enough…

9S thrusts his lance forward, right through a gap in the horse-headed creature’s leg armor, sinking deep into whatever thick sludge held it together. He twists and yanks the weapon while the creature howls and thrashes, flailing its own arm-turned-skewer wildly. Ripping the lance free, he launches forward into a shoulder tackle into the monster’s side. If it wasn’t taken by surprise, the dense beast wouldn’t have budged, but it stumbles and falls from the sudden weight being thrown into it. The two crash to the floor and 9S wastes no time scrambling to his feet before this creature can reorient itself.

With a quick shout, 9S shoves the blade of his lance straight down into the monster’s chest. The speartip pierces the bone armor, the thick layer of sludge, and finally into the burning core that serves as its heart. A burst of white hot, superheated liquid signals the monster’s final throes, its body thrashes and twitches until it falls quiet with a soft hiss.

Just as the monster’s glow begins to fade and 9S savors his small victory, his side explodes into a searing heat. An intense force throws him off the body of the fallen creature with a pained yelp. He scrambles to his feet as fast as he can, his free hand gripping his singed cloak. His flesh stings, but it doesn’t seem to be anything serious. A mild burn at worst.

The beast that took 9S by surprise pulses with red light, a section of its long barrel like arm rotates with a harsh click. A low hum builds in volume and a bright red glow swells at the tip of the barrel, punctuating in a violent explosion that sends a bolt of crimson energy soaring at 9S. It flies wide, clipping his shoulder and bursting against the cave wall in a shower of broken stone. 9S takes the opportunity to rush forward while the monster prepares another volley. It swats at him with its free hand with little result as 9S out maneuvers the bulky creature. With a shout, he skewers the second monster as he did the first. It falls with a piercing how, but not before firing off its last bolt of energy.

9S is once again plunged into darkness as the horse-headed creature dies. After wrenching his lance free, he takes a moment to catch his breath. In the dank, stagnant air of the cavern it’s easier said than done. The oppressive stench of the monsters, both alive and dead, burn at the back of his throat with each gulp of air he takes.

The moment of respite doesn’t last long. The wicked chattering of the remaining three horse-headed monsters grows closer to his position, but another, more sinister sound drowns the others. Great, heavy thuds shake the earth itself, and an orange glow signals the approach of something 9S can only assume is something far worse than those horse-headed creatures. Not wishing to confront whatever is behind those thunderous footfalls, he frantically fumbles along the cave walls looking for any path he can take to get away.

The footsteps echo like war drums, rhythmic, unending, and heralding an encroaching doom. He can only blindly feel his way through, hoping to the gods that a wrong turn doesn’t lead him face to face with what surely means his death. At times he feels along the floor for obstacles with the end of his lance, but the cautious approach allows the squadron to close in on him like a pack of wolves.

As much as he dislikes his odds, 9S realizes the only solution he has is to hide once again and wait for the monster’s to give up their search for him. From there, he’d be able to light his torch again and backtrack his way to the entrance. Perhaps, since they seemed to be inorganic, the beasts had no sense of smell. It’s a shot in the dark, quite literally, but it’s one he has to take. The other options had even less of a chance of working in his favor.

Having put distance and many erratic turns behind him and his pursuers, 9S skids to a halt to both catch his breath and gather his bearings. Though it’s difficult to tell with the cave’s echo, the chattering of the smaller monsters is barely audible. It could easily be mistaken for the dripping of water if he didn’t know any better, or if that damn ringing wasn’t still piercing his ears.

Z….Y….X....

9S takes deep steady breaths of cave air. It isn’t much but any bit helps at this point.

W...V...U….T…-

His heart leaps into his throat when the heavy footsteps return. They sound close, but not nearby. As if they’re on the other side of the wall he’s leaning against.

It’s okay...just keep calm and let them move on…  
The rock wall shudders. Pebbles clatter against the ground near his feet. He could have sworn he felt it just move-

Something crashes through the stone itself with a horrendous bellowing roar. 9S scrambles away as quick as he can, but it isn’t fast enough to avoid the shower of boulders that slam into his body. He’s knocked prone, barely holding onto his weapon and surrounded by debris. In the back of his panicking mind he realizes just how lucky he was that he wasn’t crushed by any of the larger pieces.

As he struggles to right himself, the cavern hall illuminates with an orange glow reminiscent of flames. A monster covered in similar bone armor, but massive by comparison looms above him. It’s eyes burn with such intensity that it lights its surroundings and the great curved ram’s horns that frame it’s skeletal face. One arm morphs before 9S’ eyes into a flat rectangular shape, a makeshift shield, while the other grips a spiked bludgeon larger than his head. A small, flickering halo of energy the same shade as its eyes hovers between its horns, signifying its elevated rank.

The Captain the others spoke of…

It stalks towards him, shield hand morphing back into a clawed hand. 9S scrambles back as fast as he’s able to, but the ram-skull beast moves with speed unheard of for its size. It snags his leg in its grip and drags him across the ground closer to it. With seemingly no effort, the captain’s claws wrap around his chest and hoists him into the air. Those searing orange eyes stare unblinking at him as he struggles in its iron grip. A series of deep clicks that reverberate in 9S’ chest emanate from the hulking monster, drawing him closer and closer with each sound.

“Y͡҉̛o͠u̧͏̵̵.҉̸̛.̢̧͠.̧̨͢ą̷̕̕͜r̴e͏͏.̷̸͝.̧͢͟.҉̷͢͜͝f͏҉̨͜ąļ͟͡ş̵̧͢e͢͏̸̶…̢͡”

The monster’s voice pierces 9S’ mind, swarming his vision dots as if he had been hit on the head. It becomes harder to focus on anything beyond the pain in his head and the two burning orange eyes. Suddenly, the monster slams him against the ground with such force that his head cracks against the stone. He tries to scream, but all that escapes him is a pitiful gasp as the monster squeezes the breath out of him.

It begins to walk forward with 9S struggling in its grip. The more he squirms, punches its armored forearm, and weakly tries to stab at it, the tighter its hold on his chest becomes. Seemingly out of boredom, the beast slams him against nearby walls. His strength fades each time his head makes contact with stone, until eventually he lies limp in the monster’s claws. He’s barely able to keep his eyes open, barely able to breath. His chest strains against its gnarled hand.

The three fingers coil around 9S like vile serpents tighter and tighter. He can feel his ribs bending to the point where he’s sure they’re about to snap. Pitiful groans and hisses are all that he can muster in protest, eventually fading into weak gasps for air. His vision begins to fade as he struggles to get even the smallest gulp of air down.

Just as the fear of death truly sets in, a shape in the dark rushes forward followed by a blinding flash of white and gold. The creature bellows in pain, a horrid bassal sound that shakes the earth, and the arm that constricts 9S falls to the ground along with its prey. A clean cut, right in the middle of the forearm, severs it from the body of the monster.

9S coughs violently and gulps down as much air as his lungs will allow. He gazes up at his savior, a robed figure with short striking white hair similar to his own. They clean the monster’s glowing blood from a black and gold greatsword with a flat tip in a single swing, painting the ground with luminescent droplets.

Through the low light and lightheadedness, 9S watches as his rescuer dances between the enraged strikes of the captain’s bludgeon. Their movements are almost inhumanly fluid, their flat sword carves through the thick plating of the monster with such ease that boney armor may as well have been butter. They skillfully deflect the bludgeon time after time with only a small movement of their blade. How this person, who couldn’t have been that much bigger than him, could have such physical strength is beyond 9S. He sits there on the ground in awe as this mysterious stranger effortlessly cuts down the ram-headed monster. The stranger dodges behind the beast and uses the momentum to slice through the back of its legs, bringing it to its knees with a howl. The echoing scream is cut short when the robed stranger cleaves its head from its body with a single blow.

The swordsman-...woman, judging by her figure, wipes her sword clean before sheathing it at her side. As the glow from the monster captain fades, 9S lights his torch once more. The woman stares down at him with an expression he can’t quite place. The low flickering light of the torch makes it difficult to see the details of her face.

“Are you harmed.” She says in a low, almost formal tone.

9S shakes his head and rises to his feet with a soft grunt, “Nothing serious, I think. Just a bit dizzy…”

She’s about to say something more, but stops short when the remaining three horse-headed creatures round the corner with weapons raised. In a flash, she shoves him aside and draws her blade once again.

“Stay back.” She commands.

“No. I can-”

The stranger doesn’t stick around to listen to his speech, she dashes ahead with a shout.

“F҉i̴l̷͝t̶͘h҉̛y̛.̧҉͠.̢̛.̵R͠e͘p͠t̴͏̛i̕͢l͏͜e̷̶…̢” the creatures hiss as they attempt to fend off the swordswoman.

She overpowers them with ease, cleaving the first one to meet her charge in half and then igniting the bodies of the remaining two. Their tar-like bodies catch fire instantly, leaving nothing but dry bones and the husks of their cores only moments later.

9S stands there, mouth agape. He can almost hear his mother telling him to “close his mouth so he doesn’t catch flies”.

“Was that all of them?” the swordswoman asks.

“I-...I think so.” He recounts their numbers in his head, “Yeah, there were only the five and him.” he says, gesturing to the headless captain.”

“Good. I’d say that makes us even then.”

She turns and begins the trek out of the cave before 9S can process what she said.

“...Wait what? What do you mean even?”

9S jogs after the light of her torch, his mind racing through everyone he could have assisted in the past. This mysterious gifted warrior didn’t match the description of anyone or thing he remembered.

“Hey, wait up!” He calls after her at the entrance of the cave, “Can I at least thank you for saving me? I would have been crushed back there if you hadn’t showed up.”

The woman tilts her head to the side a little, “You wish to thank me?”

“Uh...Yeah? That’s what people do?” It seems like she had never spoken to another person before? “What’s your name?”

“2B.”

He flinches at her cold tone, “Uh, well...Thank you for saving me, 2B.” He flashes a quick smile at her and holds his hand out to her, “My name’s 9S, by the way.”

She looks at 9S’ outstretched hand, then back to him, then back to his hand, then back to him again. Her expression is hard to place, like she’s angry at him and confused at the same time.

“O-...kay?” 9S draws his hand back slowly.

“Your behavior confuses me.”

“I’m...sorry?”

“You risk your own life to save me, and I am simply repaying my debt. Even if you were rude.”

“Um….” 9S takes a tentative step backwards, thumbing over the pendant that hangs around his neck, “I...You might have me confused with someone else. We’ve never met before…”

2B stares at him with piercing blue eyes, “...You were on the northern beach a number of weeks ago. You pulled me out of the ocean.”

“N-...No I helped a uh….”

She gestures for him to continue with a roll of her hand.

“Oh.”


	3. A Moment of Quiet

9S sighs to himself, wondering how he got himself into this? All those times his mother and mentors taught him things like common courtesy, manners, and selflessness all lead to this moment:

Watching a grown woman...dragoness he supposes, tangle herself in a simple lean-to tent. 

He sets the few pieces of dry wood he could scrounge up on the forest floor, “Need some help?”

2B shoots him a glare, an icy gaze that might have intimidated him if she wasn’t comically bound in rope and tarp. “It’s not my fault humans need such complex things for travel. What’s so wrong about sleeping in the trees.”

“When most animals look at you like a free meal, everything.” 9S grumbles as he begins to unravel the mess of bindings.

9S was definitely starting to regret offering to travel together. It was a moment of...well he wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to even think it’d be a good idea to travel with a Coatyl. Sure, she was incredibly strong and would make for excellent extra muscle; 9S was certain that she would have no trouble snapping him in half without breaking a sweat if he crossed her. But she was...well, she wasn’t too bright it seemed.

What she lacks in brains she makes up with physical power. Even under her robes, 9S can see the powerful muscles in her arms and back, and especially her legs. When she growls at her situation he can see brief flashes of sharp teeth, pointed as a predator’s should be. Her icy blue eyes glare at him as he meanders over to help.

2B strains against her bindings as 9S fumbles with the nonsensical knots she’s somehow tied, but just when he thinks the ropes are about to snap she stops. She’s clearly strong enough to break herself free, so why is she letting him untangle her? He chalks it up to some strange Coatyl custom he’s not familiar with, some honor code or something. Probably the same thing that led her to save him in the first place.

“There.” 9S says as he casts aside the pile of rope and tarp, “You alright?”

“Fine,” 2B snaps.

It seems that it’s only her pride that’s damaged, so 9S returns to building his campfire. With the sun already starting to set, it was only a matter of time before the temperature started to plummet for the evening. He needs to get a fire started soon... but that’s going to be easier said than done while babysitting a Coatyl. 

9S throws a sideways glance at said overgrown chicken scowling at the unmade tent.

Well...if anything she’s someone to talk to.

2B crouches next to him, peering over his shoulder to watch him set his mismatched pieces of wood in the way his lieutenant had taught him. He stuck the kindling in the middle, and the larger pieces arranged in a pyramid shape above. 

“Why are you arranging the firewood in that way?” she asks.

“Hm? Oh uh…” 9S rubs the back of his neck, “It lets the fire breathe when it’s forming so that by the time the larger logs catch fire, the flames are strong enough to hold.”

She tilts her head to the side as he places the last piece. 

“Have you...never built a fire before?” he asks.

“No.”

9S decides to just...let that one go. She is a dragon after all; she could probably spit fire at will. Or maybe not. Just a few hours ago he didn’t know that Coatyls could take a human form. Or had a culture. Or possessed human intelligence for that matter. 

“...Can I help?” 2B asks.

Such childish intonation coming from this powerful woman catches 9S off guard. Though all things considered he should stop being surprised by that.

“Uh…” The recent image of 2B getting tangled in a simple tent flash across his mind, followed by his imagination running to the worst possible outcomes. She definitely isn’t suited to skill work, and the forest is too serene to set ablaze. “I think I got it, thanks.”

2B makes a noise in the back of her throat that sounds to 9S like a growl, and the sudden realization that she is very much stronger than he hits him full force. It’s probably best not to insult her abilities, but he would rather handle this himself. He just has to distract her until he gets it all done. 

“If you want to start eating, I have some rations in my knapsack. It’s nothing fancy but it keeps bellies full.”

9S lets out a quiet sigh of relief when 2B meanders over to his bag. He focuses on building the fire and less on the sounds of her rummaging through his things, but the sound of his belongings spilling on the forest floor snaps his attention in her direction.

“...Really?” he says quietly as he watches the dragon pick through his now-dirty belongings.

Nothing seems damaged from where he’s sitting, his gear is sturdy enough for a fall like that. Still, it’s pretty annoying to have almost everything he owns covered in dirt. She sifts through his clothes, his climbing gear, everything to get to a series of small cloth bundles tied up with string. After sniffing one she unwraps the ration to examine the meager meal of hardtack and salted pork.

“...What is this.” 2B asks, her nose wrinkled slightly.

“Salted pork? They stay preserved for a long while, can’t have food go bad when you’re out in the wild right?”

She glances at him once more before sniffing the preserved meat again, “...No. Absolutely not.”

9S pinches the bridge of his nose, “Something wrong?”

“This smells atrocious, like old leather.”

“It’s not supposed to taste good,” he counters, “It’s just something to eat so you don’t starve-”

“We are not barbarians.” 2B tosses the bundle aside, “Hold on, I’ll fix this.”

She strides into the forest with such confidence that 9S couldn’t help but follow just to see what she plans on doing. It’s partly his curiosity, partly the memory of that feathered beast floundering in the ocean that spurs him forward. 9S can’t suppress a creeping but exasperated dread that surfaces when 2B approaches the bank of a sizable lake hidden just out of sight of their camp.

He has to admit it’s a beautiful place, like something out of the tales of the feywilds. Shimmering clear water, flowering lily pads floating on the surface, and a thin fog that hangs over the water like a veil. The bugs, however, he could do without. 

2B’s form is bathed in a dim light, and 9S’ jaw drops in awe as her silhouette shifts before his eyes. In a single, seamless transformation, her form morphs from woman to that feathered beast from before. The air sizzles with raw energy, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His skin tightens and heart thunders in his ear as the light dissipates and 2B’s white feathers seem to glow in the fading sunlight. 

She beats her wings a few times to balance herself in this form, scattering pollen and petals from the wildflowers that grew on the forest floor. Her solid black eyes focus on 9S for a brief moment before something in the lake catches her attention. The imperceptible movements of fish draws her to the water. She lowers her head to the surface, the tip of her beak hovering just above it. Her wings extend bit by bit as she wades into the lake, her thin legs barely making any ripples along the surface. The sight is a far cry from the ungraceful creature he had to save from drowning in the ocean. Watching 2B’s head pivot from side to side following the movements of fish is almost mesmerizing. 

9S almost misses her head dart beneath the water and snatch a sizable trout right out of the lake. All it takes is one bite with her piercing beak and a quick shake of her head for the fish to still in 2B’s jaws. She casts a glance behind her before tossing the trout to the shore near where 9S stands. It splashes in the shallows, making him jump back in surprise. 2B makes a low throaty huff that he almost takes for a laugh before returning to the shadows darting beneath the surface of the water. 

9S would have been satisfied with the single fish he’s gutting and cleaning, but 2B seems to have no intention of leaving the water any time soon. It wasn’t that surprising thinking about it; Coatyls probably need a lot more food to sustain themselves than humans do. She remains in the lake snatching fish out of the water every so often for another hour or so, catching five more fish before returning to 9S in her human form. 

“I guess I owe you one,” 9S says with a quick laugh. 

2B matches his enthusiasm with a somewhat smug grin. Normally, he’d try and take that conceited attitude of hers down a little, but she had just given him a meal of fresh fish. He’d take that over weeks old salted meat any day. 

Though fire-roasted fish isn’t exactly a gourmet meal, especially since 9S decided to leave his personal stash of spices back at camp, the smell of a skewered trout searing over an open flame is enough to get his mouth watering. There’s only so long a man can live off of trail rations before his tongue shrivels. 

2B places the remaining four fish on a flat rock nearby and sits cross-legged in the dirt next to him, “You mentioned it being dangerous to travel alone before.”

Her sudden question surprises 9S, but he isn’t sure why. Perhaps he mistook her for more aloof than she really was.

“Yeah. There are bears and wolves in these parts, not to mention bands of demons that’ll attack you just for fun.”

She stiffens at the mention of demons, “If that’s the case, why are you out here alone?”

“Well,” 9S begins, “I’m a scout. Part of my job is to go out and make sure there’s nothing on its way to attack the camp. It’d be pretty hard to be sneaky when there’s more than one of us, so we typically go it alone.” 

“Seems like dangerous work.”

“Of course, traveling alone, in general, is kind of dangerous. Not everyone can just become an apex predator at will.”

“That kind of job is dangerous for all species. You should at least be allowed to have a partner.”

He shrugs and reaches for the roasted fish, “Commander needs all the soldiers back at base in case something happens. White’s army is the frontline against the demon hoards, we need all the manpower we can get.”

“I see.”

9S sighs, “Yeah. That’s why I went into that cave. To take stock of the smaller squads of demons that have been roaming around up north. Gotta have a thorough report, you know?”

2B doesn’t reply to him, seemingly lost in thought. She stares ahead into the flames for a moment, then as 9S begins to prepare a second fish to cook, she grabs one of the raw fish off of the stone.

“Oh thanks, “says 9S, “I wanna cook these soon before they start to smell-”

His words fail him as he takes in the sight of a grown woman stuff an entire raw trout into her mouth. He wants to shout at her for her abhorrent lack of manners, but nothing escapes him save for a low sigh. A flash of pointed teeth digging into the flesh of the poor trout takes his mind off the travesty to civilized society for a moment. 

The trout’s tail lingers between her teeth briefly… longer than it should be. 2B isn’t even chewing it, which he doesn’t expect anyway, but he can tell something is wrong with her. Her blue eyes are wide, almost panicked-

“Oh shit!”

9S leaps into action, and unfortunately, that means that all the first aid training that had been drilled into him went soaring out of his mind. A vague memory of the proper maneuver to assist someone choking, something about upward thrusts, calls to him.

Instead of following that, he lunges forward and rips the fish out of 2B’s throat by the tail. 

2B doubles over and sputters. She gasps for air in between rib wracking coughs that shake her whole body. 

“Easy easy!” 9S tosses the fish aside and supports her. The rough, almost scale-like texture of the skin on her neck takes him off guard for a split second. “Deep breaths okay? Deep breaths.”

Her breathing evens out after a few ragged breaths. She wheezes and coughs a bit more before she can steady herself enough to sit upright.

“I guess… I’m in your debt again.” 2B says between breaths.

9S sits back to give her some space, “At this rate, you might be in my debt the rest of your life.”

They share an exasperated laugh together, though it ends quickly once 2B begins coughing once again. 9S offers her his water pouch, “Here, drink a bit. It’ll help.”

She meekly sips from the pouch, whether scared to worsen herself or embarrassed, 9S can’t exactly tell.

“...Do you travel on your own much?” 9S asks as 2B returns the pouch.

“No…” 2B fixes her gaze at the flames once more.

As 9S forms his next question, 2B takes one of the other raw fish and tears a chunk of flesh off. She picks at her catch while 9S watches with morbid fascination, like watching a predator pick the tender bits from its meal.

“...I’m looking for someone.” she says finally, “They went hunting um...important demons, they said.”

He stares at her for a moment, “...Someone important? Parent? Brother or sister? ...Lover?”

“My sibling.”

9S nods and nibbles on the cooked fish, “Well…” he begins, a stupid reckless idea forming in his mind, “I’m on the road back to our encampment, and it’s dangerous to travel alone...We’re both out of our element...Why don’t we stick together? Maybe Commander White will be able to help in your search too?”

He knows the probability of her agreeing is pretty low. He’d just slow her down since she’s able to fly and all. Still...despite only knowing her for a few hours, 2B is the first person he’s met outside the army that has had a conversation with him. It’s...nice to have someone to talk to.

“Alright.”

9S perks up at her response, “Huh? Really?”

“Yes. I’ll travel with you.”

He returns her nod with a smile and clutches the pendant hanging around his neck.


	4. The Hounds and their Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload, this chapter was a bit challenging and I'm a busy bitch. Buzz buzz.

Despite his reservations, traveling with 2B is relatively painless. Enjoyable even. When she isn’t soaring on the gentle mountain breezes above him, she keeps stride beside him and listens to him talk about one thing or another. Most of the time it’s just 9S rambling about something idle and meaningless, such as 2B’s mainly fish diet and 9S’ love of cherry flavored ice cream. Sometimes 9S explores tangents that are only vaguely related to what they were talking about, like the subtle exploitation of trade routes that allow for the transportation of foreign goods such as cherries. He’ll go into the economic ramifications of this, but the bewildered look on 2B’s face brings him back to reality. Not everyone finds these topics as interesting as he does.

When she isn’t next to 9S letting him talk her ear off, 2B transforms and circles around him in the sky. That far in the air, he sometimes mistakes her for a large vulture with the way she soars for long stretches without beating her wings at all. Her flight patterns are so graceful 9S has a hard time believing that this is the same floundering idiot bird he pulled out of the ocean. 9S has a theory about why this is and makes a mental note to ask her where she’s from whenever they stop to rest next.

It’s a strange feeling to enjoy a trek in the wilderness since 9S typically makes these months-long journeys alone. Having someone to talk to, to listen and respond to him, makes it not only bearable but pleasant. Even though he loves verbally dissecting any topic to a willing ear, trying to figure out the quirks and behaviors that make up 2B is far more interesting. 

She prefers to listen, rather than speak it seems. Even when prompted by 9S to elaborate on an aspect of her culture or her home, 2B responds with a simple one or two word answer and the two of them lapse into a long bout of silence. Eventually, 9S resigns to inane questions that don’t seem to put her on edge. It does surprise him that she is so closed off when it comes to herself and her home. He isn’t sure why she is or why he assumes her to be open with her life.

At 9S’ recommendation, the pair avoids the main road. It’s a rule of his to only use it if he needs a warm place to sleep for the night or if the surrounding wilderness is too dangerous. With 2B either keeping pace beside him or circling above there isn’t much local wildlife that can take the both of them on. Occasionally they do venture onto the road when it transforms from a well kept cobbled path to little more than a dirt trail.

9S comes across a small group of people camped out on the dirt path while 2B soars above them. A ragged bunch that 9S mistakes for beggars at first, but then he sees the despondent look on their faces, the way a mother clings to her whimpering child, and the small cart filled with haphazard belongings. The image of the smoldering remains of a village flash into his mind. He casts a sorrowful glance back at the refugees as he passes them by. The only one who looks up at him is a young girl clutching a scorched doll.

The desolate villages come as no surprise to 9S; many smaller towns have been abandoned and left to rot in recent years. Towns that used to be hubs of activity or places to rest while on the road are now nothing more than piles of wood and burned farmland. 

2B returns to her human form beside 9S as they pass the remains of a village.

“...I hadn’t realized how bad things had gotten,” she mutters to him. 

“Yeah…”

9S continues down the road for a few paces before he realizes that 2B isn’t next to him. He whips around in a momentary panic to find her staring at the smoking ruins a couple of yards away.

“Why do they do this...What can the demons gain from ravaging defenseless towns.”

“It’s a tactic of theirs…” he responds with venom dripping from his voice, “Force everyone into one place and then…”

“Oh…”

The pair continues in a heavy silence, the destruction around them sobering any kind of light-hearted banter that might have crossed either of their minds. 2B seems to be even more closed off than she was before, her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze cast somewhere off in the distance. 9S assumes that she had never left her home before setting out on her own, and wherever home was must not have been targeted by demons. Or at least not often. 

They pass more and more displaced families, each one from a different town. A father from the west mentions that many people from destroyed villages are heading to the sprawling port town of Vigo. According to him, it’s one of the few walled cities still taking refugees. A mother clutching an infant warns them of living shadows that tore her family to pieces as she fled. A boy no older than fifteen grimaces like a veteran soldier as he recounts how he defended his young sister from the horse-like creature that skewered their parents. 

2B remains silent through all of this, unnerving what few people bother to pay her any mind. She stares off into the distance from time to time, like an animal that’s heard a sudden loud noise. 9S has to snap her out of her daze by calling her name or tapping her shoulder. She only gives cryptic answers when he asks if something is wrong. 

“I don’t know…” 

About an hour or so later, 2B transforms and launches into the air. 9S doesn’t pay it any mind at first, but then she soars further into the distance to the point where she’s merely a speck. 

“Wh- Hey!!” he shouts.

He knows there’s no hope of catching up to her on foot, but the strange pang in his chest as she flies away from him spurs him forward as fast as he can. Why would she just abandon him like this? There must be something wrong, right? 2B wouldn’t leave him without a word.

But he doesn’t know 2B. Not well enough to quell the anxious churning in his gut.

9S calls out to her again and again in hopes of his voice reaching her, but she’s so far in the distance that he loses hope quickly. His frantic sprint slows to a stop as 2B disappears from view behind the treeline. His new friend, gone from sight without so much as a goodbye.

As he gazes almost mournfully at the sky, he sees the smoke.

Great billowing clouds of black smoke rise above the trees, through which he sees 2B’s white wings soaring. She seems to bank towards him then back around into the smoke, as if she’s beckoning him towards whatever is burning. His legs move on their own, powering him on in her direction. 

He shoves his way through forest and underbrush, following the thick black clouds in the sky and the growing roar of a massive fire. A number of forest-dwelling creatures sprint past him in the opposite direction. A horse in full saddle and riding tack bursts out of the foliage, nearly crashing into 9S before galloping away. Blood splatters across the ground from long, heinous claw marks that leave tatters of flesh dangling off the beast’s chest. 

The roar of flames is drowned out by what sounds like countless horses screaming, along with the sound of something heavy being thrown against wood. 9S bursts out of the thick woods into a pasture. It might have been an idyllic scene if not for the burning stables just beyond the fences and the great plumes of smoke emerging from the small town behind them. 

“2B!” 9S calls out to the white beast soaring above. 

She lands nearby, scattering ash into the air with each beat of her wings. In a flash of light, she reverts to her human form, her flat sword already drawn.

“I saw something moving inside the town,” 2B says and motions for 9S to follow.

“There are still people here?!” 

“No, something else...It looked like a pack of black wolves.”

Dread coils in 9S’ stomach. He’s read reports from the other scouts about black, wolf-like creatures that appear around great fires along with...something else.

The acrid, stomach-churning smell of burning flesh carried on searing wind nearly makes 9S double over and vomit. It confirms the fear that had been brewing in the back of his mind since seeing the stables, which have gone eerily quiet apart from the crackling of burning wood and bone.

Again, 2B wanders away from him. This time she seems drawn to the largest pillar of smoke rising from the center of town. Instead of pleading with her to stay nearby, 9S decides he’d have better luck simply keeping pace with her. Jogging after a Coatyl with tunnel vision is a more sound plan than getting left behind anyway. 

What’s left of the town is nothing but smoldering embers, the fires that consumed most of the buildings seem to have gone out hours ago. 9S lags behind his companion as he sidesteps puddles of drying blood and piles of unmentionable gore. The scene is so violent, so cruel, that there isn’t any doubt in 9S’ mind of what could have caused this.

2B covers her face with the long sleeve of her robe as she searches for any sign of life in the crumbling buildings. She jumps at the slightest movement, each shift in the wood as it disintegrates could be a poor unfortunate crawling their way to freedom. Of course, she finds nothing but ash and embers each time.

They make their way to the center of town, and towards the largest of the pillars of smoke. The closer they get, the roar of a still-raging fire grows louder and louder along with the horrid smell of burning flesh.

What they find at the center of town makes scout and swordswoman alike recoil in horror.

A mass grave, over two hundred bodies large, still burning as if it were just lit. Each body is anonymous, faceless, all features having burnt away hours ago; yet they can make out the shapes of men, women, and children alike. 

“Gods…” 9S whispers, bile rising in his throat. 

He’s read the reports, heard first-hand accounts of this sort of thing, but they pale in comparison to seeing it for himself. He can’t bring himself to look at the pile for too long. 2B doesn’t seem much better, though she looks less on the verge of collapsing than he does. She just stands there, jaw clenched tight and lips pressed in a thin line. Her fingers curl around the grip of her sword so tightly that her knuckles turn stark white. 9S can even see the slight elevation of the scales on her fingers. 

A low droning noise, almost inaudible above the roar of the flames, drags 9S out of his horrified trance. His hand instinctively reaches for the lance secured to his back as something chatters a response. 

“2B…” he mutters, drawing his lance, “We have to go.”

She jumps at the sound of a house crumbling under its own weight, drawing her sword as well. The golden inlays on the weapon glisten in the light of the flames each time she turns it in her hands.

The chattering of unknown creatures grows into a cacophonous laughter that seems to surround them. It’s impossible for 9S to discern just how many beasts were closing in on them. At first, he hears just four, then five, then seven, until they all meld together into one. All uniqueness in pitch and cadence fade away into a single dissonant voice. 9S clutches at the side of his head and groans as that horrible noise tears through his mind.

Just when the laughter became near unbearable for him, it stops. Everything stops. If it weren’t for the sound of 2B’s tense breathing, 9S might have thought he had gone deaf. They share a look, a brief confirmation that this wasn’t a strange hallucination and that they’re both in very real danger.

With a quick tap on her arm 9S and 2B break into a sprint in the direction of the pasture and the woods beyond. The rapid footfalls of pursuing monsters close in on them, but neither dare look back at the creatures practically nipping at their heels. They chatter in some beastial language that’s reminiscent of the uncanny laughter of a hyena. Shadows shift and waver in the corner of 9S’ vision, and a particularly large one darts out in front of them. 

It stands in front of still burning stables, stopping the pair in their tracks. The pitch black creature, about the size of a wolf, remains unmoving even as 2B and 9S skid to a halt in front of it. It watches them despite having no eyes or any facial features for that matter. Vapors the same void-like color as its skin emit from its “skin”, swaying with its body and giving the beast an ethereal quality as if it were a simple shadow. Behind them five more of the creatures close in, blocking any easy paths out. 2B growls and slashes her sword at one of the creatures that creep too close for comfort, but the beast easily dodges backward and lets out a low hissing sound that makes her skin crawl.

The top of the lone monster’s head unhinges revealing rows and rows of needle-like teeth that point towards the back of its throat. Saliva that sears the ground it lands on dribbles from its maw, any plant life that it comes into contact with begins to wilt instantly. It snaps at the air just in front of 9S, causing him to stumble back into 2B. The beasts close in on their left, snarling and gnashing their jaws.

9S keeps his lance trained on the creature closest to him, his palms growing clammy and tense. He jabs at the beast, which simply shifts its weight to the side. A strange afterimage of itself lingers a half step next to it, which quickly dissipates into black mist. It laughs at him, or at least it seems to, with short wheezing huffs. Each one expels more of that mist that is released by its skin and saliva. 

One creature lunges at 2B, who reacts immediately with a powerful downward strike of her sword. The flat blade easily cleaves through the monster’s almost gaseous body, yet the sound of metal meeting “flesh” is just as sickening. The strike separates its head from its neck in a clean-cut, its body falling to the ground near their feet with a wet thud. Thick, black blood pours from the stump of its neck, searing the earth as if it were liquid fire. 2B backs away from the growing pool, pulling 9S with her. 

Two more monsters on their left push closer to them, ignoring their fallen pack mate. There’s a momentary break in their formation on the right, large enough to 9S to take advantage of the gap. 

“2B!” he shouts, tugging at her sleeve. 

She reacts immediately, breaking into a sprint alongside 9S. The creatures follow behind and keep pace beside them. Blackened jaws snap at their legs forcing them to turn back towards the ruined village once again. They might be able to outmaneuver whatever these things are within the burnt out buildings. If they can separate the pack and take them out one at a time, then maybe there’s a chance of victory. 

The distance grows between the creatures and the pair, though it doesn’t seem to 9S that they are outrunning them. He chances a look over his shoulder and catches a few of those beasts break off from the pack, leaving only two actively pursuing them. 2B notices this as well and stops dead in her tracks to prepare an attack.

9S stops a few feet away and readies his lance, taking the grounding stance he was taught as soon as he could hold a stick. One beast charges 2B, juking to the side as she strikes at it. 9S rushes while the monster’s back is turned, leaping at the last moment and using the momentum to stab his lance right between its shoulders. It screams as it struggles against both his weight and the lance’s blade holding it down, eventually falling to a pitiful whimper and then silence. 2B kicks the second creature square in the chest as it leaps at her, her powerful legs sending it flying backward. It scrambles to its feet, but it does little to stop the might of 2B’s blade. In one incredible swing, she brings the flat sword down onto its back, splitting its spine in two.

They stand back to back once 9S wrenches his lance free from the monster’s body. The black blood he thought to be acidic slides off of the treated metal that makes up the blade. 2B casts a nervous glance at his weapon and edges herself away, disguising it as simply standing and brandishing her sword at three more demons.

2B is about to attack when the air crackles with energy, making the downy feathers that lie beneath her hair stand on end. She leaps into action, tackling 9S to the ground just as a piercing whistle echoes through the ruined town. Something sails over their heads with an ear-splitting screech and embeds itself in the dirt. 2B only gets a brief look at the glowing yellow oblong shape before it explodes. She covers 9S’ body with hers as hellfire licks at her back, singeing her robes before fading away. As she pulls the young scout to his feet, brushing off his concerns for her, she hears the distant pounding of hooves growing closer and closer. A great looming shadow peeks around the corner of one of the ruined houses as another explosion ignites the dried grass, setting the ground itself ablaze. 

She tugs her still disoriented companion away from the rapidly growing flames and away from the heavy hoofbeats of whatever new monster is bearing down on them. 9S stumbles along at first, using his lance to support himself when he feels he is in danger of falling, but it slows them down. A darker part of 2B’s mind urges her to leave him to his fate. He’s a hindrance. If it weren’t for him, she would just be able to take to the skies and escape.

And yet…

He leaps in front of her when the three dog-like demons block their escape route, brandishing his lance with a bravado she didn’t think possible of one so small. There’s a fire in his icy blue eyes that 2B has only a brief look at before a horrific scream rips through the air, and the thunderous beating of hooves comes to a stop behind them.

A creature that appears to be a monstrous horse and rider merged into one towers over the pair. The “horse” part of the creature seems to stare at 2B despite having only sharp-edged plates of metal where any facial features might be. Rows of flat teeth take up most of the head, twisting into a crude smile down to its thick neck. Instead of fur, an off-color leather substance functions as the creature’s skin, and from this skin, the rider is formed like a malignant growth. The humanoid shape is fused to the body of the beast just behind the shoulder, its thighs melding into the beast’s body somewhere above the knee. In one hand it grips a bizarrely shaped pike, and in the other, a yellowish flame flickers between its fingers. That same yellow flame seems to emanate from its abnormally large eyes, the only features on the face of the humanoid growth. 

The beast head grinds its teeth, a hideous wet sound accompanied by flecks of spit that escape its maw. A voice similar to the one that assaulted his mind in the cave pierces through 9S’ mind. It grinds and gnashes in his brain, forcing him to double over and clutch his head in a feeble effort to dull the pain. Through the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, he sees 2B stave off one of the black hounds that attempts to attack him in his weakened state.

The voice surges through his blood, “F̛͎͎͎̰̗͍͔̆̎͂̚e̵̯̭̦̗̗̥̺̱͂̑̐̄͘͞͞ͅe̡̖͔̮̬͉͔̤͒͒̄̈́̐͋͘ͅb̦̹̫͉͇͚̦́́͑̄͜͡l̢͎̜͍̭͖͍̼̱̉̒̍̄̓͋̊e̙͕̭̮̟̹̅̽̃̊͒ ắ̴̧̻̳̪̠̹̌̑̄̀b̷̮̻̪͉͗̐̅̅͊͟͟͝o̵̥̻͔̘̻̟̬̍̏̎̚͘͢m̴̞̗̤̮͔̘̦̲̞̝̆̈́̿̉̊̕̕ỉ̵̧̛̠̖̘͙͙͚͆̉̈́͜n̶͉̗͙̫̐̅̉̓̾̍͑ͅa̲͙̙͓͇͈̼̱̯̲̎̔̇̈́͡t̵̨̧͍̫̱̹̣̜̯́̅̀̆̃̃͋̽͝ͅi̵̱͔̭͔̞͔̓̎̑̀̐̃͜ͅo̶̹̞͔̥̥̻̗̦͋͗̿͛́͐́̈́͘n̛̗̤̦͙̘̤͇͚͙̞̐̽͆̄̑͋̕͝.͕̙̰̠͓͔̮̰̥͌̌́̀̔̄̃̒̏͗.”

9S is forcibly pulled from his stupor when 2B shoves him out of the way of another volley of fireballs from the rider. He forces himself to his feet as fast as his aching body will allow to be sure his friend is okay. Luckily, aside from the hem of her robes looking a bit scorched, she appears to be fine. She bares her teeth, sharp and inhuman, and charges with a bellowing roar that matches the monster. The rider swipes at 2B with its twisted pike, while the horse rears up on its hind legs. The pike is easily deflected, but one of the beast’s warped hooves lands an audible blow to her chest. She flies backward and crashes into a pile of scorched wood, sending clouds of ash into the air. 

Just as 9S is about to rush to her side, wicked teeth sink into the meat of his calf. One of the black dog creatures had snuck up on him and now tears at the muscles of his leg. He howls yet barely registers the pain. Battle trance, he recalls. Something that his superior officer mentioned long ago. Where soldiers with grievous wounds would continue fighting without pause. What an odd time to be remembering this…

He thrusts the ornate lance forward into the beast’s neck. It screams, eerily similar to his own cries and reels backward. Though his leg burns and bleeds, 9S is more concerned with 2B struggling against the horse demon. He scrambles to his feet and bolts towards her, his breath catching in his throat as she deflects a strike powerful enough to break her stance. 

2B stumbles, the repeated strikes and stabs narrowly missing her. 9S shoves her out of the way of the horse head’s teeth the moment he reaches her side, but in his panic, he neglects to realize the demon has two portions. The rider raises its lance, its gnarled blade aimed squarely at his head. 

2B’s hand reaches out to him, snagging whatever she can grab. Her fingers curl around his pendant and she yanks as hard as she can. 

“No-!”

He staggers forward, but the small chain necklace snaps from the force, coming loose in 2B’s hand. The rider’s spear embeds itself in the ground between them, giving 2B space to take in 9S’ true appearance.

The pendant in 2B’s hand must have some sort of masking spell attached to it. A glamor, if she remembers correctly. Looking at him now it’s painfully obvious what he’s trying to hide. Two horns, barely developed beyond nubs an inch long emerge from his forehead. Black claws tip his fingers, and a thin tail of similar color twitches behind him, ending in a pointed spade. His eyes, wide with terror, are now ringed with pure white irises instead of icy blue, and two fangs peek out from behind his lips. Most damning of all, a small ring of unstable white energy crackles between the two stubby horns on his head. He is, unmistakably, a demon. Or of demonic heritage at least.

One of the hounds bites onto 2B’s arm while she’s distracted, another one tackling her to the ground a moment later. A small pack descends on her, while 9S struggles to fight the horse demon. His leg gives out as he dodges back and forth, crippling his strikes and bringing him dangerously close to the demon’s blade. 

2B roars and thrashes against the hounds. Their fangs pierce through the thin scales that appear to be skin, pulling and yanking in different directions. One pulls on her arm, another her leg, and one tear at her shoulder with its clawed feet digging into her chest. She pulls a leg free just long enough to kick the hound on top of her squarely in the chest. The solid and powerful blow sends it flying into 9S, knocking him prone and leaving him vulnerable.

The warped hoof of the horse pins him down, crushing his ribs under its weight while the rider raises its pike. 9S tries to scream and fight, to do something but all he can do is wheeze and beat his fist feebly against the beast’s leg. 

He locks eyes with the rider as the pike comes down on his head-

“Hey, shithorse! Over here!”

Suddenly, there’s a flash of movement and a deafening explosion engulfs the rider’s head the moment a black blur slams into its face. 9S’ hands fly up to shield his face from the rain of viscera, but a familiar string of profanities and the sight of oily black hair makes his heart soar.

“Jackass?!”

The grungy officer flashes her signature toothy smirk at him while a bellowing scream from the horse demon drowns out whatever quip she fires his way. A handful of lightly armored soldiers charge forward in a simple formation, scattering the remaining hound demons in various directions. One is unfortunate enough to pass to close to the now unbound horse demon, which effortlessly snaps up the lesser creature in its powerful jaws and gulps it down in only a couple bites. 

“On your feet kiddo!” Jackass shouts as she hoists 9S up by his arm, “You ain’t out of this mess yet!”

Sure enough, the horse demon throws a devastating kick with its hind legs to the troops. They break formation, attempting to confuse the creature with staggered attacks to draw its attention away from a single person. Jackass strikes her large black hammer against the ground, the force pulling back a lever like contraption that ignites the furnace built within. The creature snarls as it turns its massive head to face the lieutenant, an incoherent message of screams and vulgarities forcing its way into 9S’ head.

“You’re a talkative beastie, ain’t ya.” Jackass replies, seemingly unfazed by those unholy sounds. 

The air around 9S crackles with energy as Jackass charges at the horse demon, her flaming hammer leaving a trail of smoke and embers. But just as she is about to strike, a shrill roar followed by a rush of wind stops the lieutenant dead in her tracks. 2B, now in her natural form, rakes at the horse with her talons, her wings beating furiously to keep balance. She flays the beast’s back as it wails and attempts to throw her off balance. It throws its head back trying to catch any part of 2B in its uncanny jaws, yet she remains just out of its reach. 

Jackass and the other soldiers remain poised, ready to strike if either beast draws too close. She commands them to stay on guard and opts to let this newcomer do their work for them. A soldier yelps as 2B hoists both herself and the demon into the air for a moment, then slams it onto the ground with a sickening crunch. Its piercing screams are cut short when the dragoness clamps her beak around its throat and thrashes her head back and forth until the head is ripped from its neck. Even 9S backs away from his companion as she roars, standing tall above the corpse. Blood splashes onto the ground, though it’s unclear if its origin is demonic or dragonic.

The soldiers glance between Jackass and the bloodstained Coatyl hissing at anyone who dares get too close. One swipes at her beak with their sword which only aggravates 2B further.

“Stop! Wait!” 9S shouts as he limps past Jackass and the squadron to stand in front of his companion, “She’s with….me!” He coughs and sputters between his words, clutching his bruised chest.

Jackass cocks an eyebrow but lowers her hammer regardless, “...Friend of yours?”

“We’ve….been traveling together for a while, she won’t hurt anyone.” he shoots a glare back at 2B who responds with an indignant huff.

The lieutenant motions for the soldiers to stand down and sheath their weapons, which they do with some hesitation. Once the danger to her has passed, 2B returns to her human state much to the surprise of Jackass and the soldiers. 

She shifts her gaze between 9S and these strangers in uniform. 

“...My name is 2B.” she says after wiping away the blood that lingered on her face. 

“Jackass.” 

“Excuse me?!” 

“That's...that's just what we call her,” 9S mutters to 2B, noticing her tense stance.

Jackass holds her hand out to 2B with a lazy smile, “Thanks for the help.”

2B, having learned a little from her time with 9S, meets the officer with a sturdy yet awkward handshake. 

With pleasantries out of the way, Jackass goes over details of his recent scouting exploits. Now that the danger had passed, the pain takes its toll on 9S, forcing him to sit on a stray log and nurse his leg. The other soldiers break off to hunt down the remaining hounds and comb the area for any survivors. 2B settles down nearby to tend to her wounds herself, shooing away any well-meaning soldiers offering to help. She licks at the gashes on her arms to stimulate her body’s natural healing properties and within moments the punctures begin to knit back together. 

With her injuries healing nicely, 2B takes the time to meander around the ruined village while she waits for 9S to finish talking to his superior. She stops in her tracks when a piece of jewelry catches her eye as it glints in the sunlight. The pendant that she accidentally tore from 9S… She turns the simple necklace in her hands, running her thumb over the dull red jewel. It’s nothing special, just silver and an uncut piece of garnet, but there’s a subtle but unmistakable magical energy to it, indicating its true value. 

For the first time since meeting him, 2B feels uncertainty towards 9S. He had kept this part of himself, this potentially dangerous part of himself from her. There’s a part of her that feels she should kill him before he kills her before she’s lulled further into the false sense of security that would be her downfall.

And yet…

She watches as 9S talks with Jackass. Not much about his demeanor has changed aside from the formal speech of a trained soldier, even while wrapping a crude bandage around his calf and trying to steady his breathing. The only new thing she notices is how his thin tail curls and uncurls itself from around his undamaged leg. He’s still the same person, and if he wanted to kill her there were much better opportunities to do so in the past. Her fist curls around the pendant as she approaches 9S the moment Jackass dismisses him.

There’s fear on his face. His eyes, now almost pure white aside from his pupils and the faint flecks of blue, dart around as if they’re searching her neutral expression. She can hear his heart thundering in his chest, and his tail flicks back and forth in a manner reminiscent of an agitated feline. 

No words pass between them as 2B holds the pendant out to him.


	5. Army of White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time around, apologies for that

For 2B, traveling with a platoon of strangers is a stressful endeavor. The wary stares of armed and armored soldiers put her on edge, even as she stays close to 9S. She writes it off as making sure he’s managing his injuries well, which isn’t a complete lie. There are times where his pace slows and 2B can hear him struggle to breathe, but those are few and far between. For the entirety of the last leg of the journey, 9S stays information behind the lieutenant, Jackass, with 2B beside him. The other soldiers file in line after them, their eyes rarely leaving the strange newcomer attached at the hip to the young scout.

9S tries to make conversation with her, but he doesn’t press her for much of anything this time. His hand curls around his pendant occasionally and he refuses to meet her gaze at all really. Each time one of their brief conversations ends, he casts his eyes down to the earth almost shamefully and hides his pendant beneath his thin coat. Why he feels the need to hide from her, 2B doesn’t quite understand. She had given him the charm back, that should have told him enough about her opinion of him. Humans, or hybrids in this case, sure were strange creatures.

Though 2B is curious as to what exactly the other side of 9S’ bloodline is, it strikes her as exceedingly rude to ask, especially when he seems so ashamed of it. With her limited knowledge of the vast variety of demons, it makes it difficult for her to take a guess. He definitely wasn’t any of the ones comprised of bone and tar, or the shadow hounds or the strange rider and horse. 2B has no idea which species have the capability to breed with humans as well. Perhaps some of the stronger varieties, the ones that lead the legions and give orders? She feels as if she has the right to know but now is not the time. There are too many strangers watching her every move.

Jackass, the lieutenant, occasionally tosses some short questions back at 9S, mainly to ask if he’s holding up. There’s an electric glint in the eyes of the androgynous lieutenant that sets her on edge a bit. It’s a similar feeling to how she first felt around 9S, but different. More potent in a way. The piercing blue eyes linger on 2B just a little too long for comfort, not to mention the fact that she can’t read her expression at all. It’s almost analytical, scrutinizing and dissecting every part of 2B. Between her, Jackass, and 9S, the air of distrust is almost palpable.

The smells of metal, mud, and humans hit 2B the moment a small complex of tents comes into view. Nestled among rolling hills and surrounded by thick woods is a sprawling camp populated with countless soldiers bustling about. Some brandishing a once pristine white armor with deep blue accents, others in common attire move back and forth between tents carrying crates of supplies. 2B tenses up at the thought of being surrounded by even more strangers. Maybe coming to the aid of 9S was a bad idea…

“Alright, you lot are dismissed. Go clean up and get something to eat.” Jackass says with a dismissive wave of her hand, “9S, you and your new friend come with me for debrief.”

“Yessir,” 9S responds dutifully, yet quietly. His posture turns a bit more upright.

The soil beneath them turns to well-worn grass and patches of mud, the smell of fresh rain dampening the scents of human activity. Jackass’ squadron disperses in various directions as the three pass by certain tents. Hushed whispers and pointed stares follow 2B, who simply ignores all but 9S and Jackass. If she tries to place all of the sounds and smells, she’ll be overwhelmed in an instant. For someone with senses heightened beyond what a typical human is capable of, a busy military camp is a nightmare.

Despite her focus, something familiar breaks through 2B’s concentration. A light breeze carries the delicate scent of exotic flowers and a feminine voice.

“2B?”

Her head whips around at the sound of her name, immediately set on edge. At least until she sees exactly who called her.

“2B is that you?!”

The soft padding of bare feet on mud rushes towards her. A mass of green cloth and blonde hair launches herself at 2B, who just barely manages to catch her in time. Thin arms wrap around 2B’s shoulders, and while she’s too stunned to reciprocate at first, she returns the excited embrace of her old friend. The various trinkets and charms that adorn 6O clink and jingle as she bounces on the balls of her feet.

“6O? What are you doing here?”

She giggles a bit, “I joined up a while ago, I never thought I’d see you here!! How are you? What are you doing out this far from your village? Or from the Weald for that matter?”

“Uh…” 9S approaches the two women and clears his throat, “6O, you know her?”

"9S! You're back safe!" She reaches out with the long, gnarled staff she holds and pulls him into her other arm, squeezing the both of them tightly. 9S winces in pain but pushes it down before she notices. "I was starting to worry. But you're ok! And you know 2B too? She's an old friend of mine, we met aaaages ago. It's kind of a long story."

She lets go of the two of them, luckily for 9S. He brushes some dust and dirt from his clothes as a way to mask his slightly labored breathing. If 6O noticed that he was still nursing an injury she’d never leave him alone.

“Well...I helped her, then she got me out of a jam and then we started traveling together.” He casts a quick look at 2B, who nods in confirmation, “I thought that we might help her get a lead on her lost sibling.”

6O’s smile falls slightly, “You’re looking for A2? But doesn’t that mean-”

“9S!” Jackass shouts from a yard or so away, “Not the time for chatter, the Commander’s waiting!”

“Coming!” he answers, then cuts himself off mid-stride, “Um...2B I don’t think you-...”

“Don’t worry,” 6O pipes up grabbing onto 2B’s hand with a wide smile, “2B and I have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll show her around camp.”

9S nods, “Okay, I’ll meet you two in mess tent when I’m done.”

With one last goodbye and a concerned glance at a very bewildered 2B, 9S trots over to Jackass’ side.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to leave her unsupervised,” he mutters to his superior.

“Eh, good idea. Don’t want a confused Coatyl wandering around a military camp.”

9S responds with a quiet hum and spares another quick look back at 6O chatting excitedly at 2B. He takes great pride in his job, of course. He’s one of the best scouts in this small army and as such he gets to report directly to the Commander, but there’s an immense pressure on him to present his findings perfectly because from his findings the Commander devises the next move of the entire army.

They approach one of the larger tents at the center of camp. Two soldiers in the army’s signature white and deep navy blue armor snap to attention as Jackass and 9S push past the flaps without announcing themselves.

“Joanna-...Lieutenant.” the commander rises to her full height, towering over 9S and Jackass both. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight bun, accenting the piercing steely grey eyes that bore into 9S with an intensity that would make a lesser man cower, “9S. Glad to see you both returned safely.”

“White.” Jackass greets with a sly upward tick of her lips which grows in response to the Commander’s scowl. She straightens up slightly as she claps 9S on the shoulder, “Go on with your reports.”

9S clears his throat, meeting the stern gaze of the commander, “I patrolled along the northern coastline, visiting small villages and scouring the surrounding woods for signs of demonic activity. There were wandering bands of Medullum, which the common folk have taken to calling ‘bonemen’, hiding out in a cave system deep in the forests. More troubling than that, however, are the Hounds and Houndmaster Jackass and I encountered we believe to be raiding parties.”

Commander White nods as 9S points to the locations of the razed villages and demon camps on a map that sprawls across the table. There are a lot more towns and villages marked with a red X than he recalls. In fact, the whole area to the north is crossed off…

“...What about the other scouting parties? Did they find anything?”

The Commander sighs, “Nothing beyond burnt farmlands and corpses.”

“Oh…And the missing scouts?”

“Still no word from any of the parties sent to the northwest of the coast. You’re the only one sent there to return.” Her head lowers a bit, “We...have to assume the worst at this point.”

9S bites back the small lump forming in his throat. He considered the other scouts his friends, and now a handful of faces are gone. He knows he should be used to people dying by now, but the toll has gotten so much worse as the war has dragged on.

“...In regards to what I’ve observed…” he says after taking a deep breath to steady himself, “And from what I can gather from the map, it looks like the demons are forcing the population to the coasts. I came across people fleeing the razed villages in droves,” 9S brings out a small leatherbound pad of parchment, “Many of them said they were heading to Vigo.”

“We think they might be trying to hop a trade ship.” Jackass interjects, “But if there’s a heavy demon presence in the surrounding area, sea traffic is going to stop and they’re going to be stuck.”

“Which is exactly what the demons would want, I think.” 9S states, running his finger along his notes, “They could wipe out the population in one ambush. They’d have nowhere to run.”

“I see…” White mutters as she scribbles something on her own sheet of parchment,

“There’s also, um…” 9S falters for a moment, “There’s one other thing I need to mention.”

White raises an eyebrow, “What is it.”

“I...Well, I met someone, a Coatyl.”

“A Coatyl?”

“Yes. Her name is 2B.”

“And she was alone?”

"Yes?"

"And she's  _here_?"

“Y-yes?”

The Commander levels her steely gaze at 9S, “Do you realize how dangerous that is?”

“I...I did not.” he stammers and swallows hard, “Sorry, I’m not too familiar with Coatyls.”

White looks to Jackass, “Well?”

“From what I’ve seen, she has no love of demons, that's for sure. She hasn’t done anything to warrant concern on my end. She’s mentioned looking for her lost sibling as well. Doesn’t dissuade the other concerns I have about a lone Coatyl in a military camp.”

“She’s saved my life and I’ve saved hers in turn.” 9S adds, “I don’t think she’ll be a problem, and I don’t think she’ll be around for very long. She’s just looking for a direction to go in.”

The Commander looks back and forth between her Lieutenant and 9S, “...If this Coatyl is to stay in my camp, you’re going to be responsible for her behavior. Am I clear, 9S.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Pardon me,” a young soldier says before entering the tent, “Sorry to interrupt, but 21O is looking for 9S.”

“Go ahead,” Commander White says with a wave of her hand, “Dismissed.”

As 9S exits the tent, the Commander calls for Jackass to stay behind. Normally he’d linger around the tent to try and get some juicy information, but today was already too hectic to pull that kind of stunt again. Besides, he had gotten busted last time and did not want to end up on latrine duty for the fourth week in a row. Still, the temptation of hearing what the Commander herself has to say to the chief information officer is strong enough for him to slow his pace just a tad. Unfortunately for him, their voices are kept so low that they’re muffled by the thick fabric of the tent.

It’s a short walk through the camp to the aviary since most of the activity in camp seems to be winding down for the evening. Everyone who isn’t busy is probably in the mess tent for dinner or washing up after the day. A scout taking a couple horses out to graze waves idly to 9S as he passes by, which he returns with a small smile.

The agitated croaking of ravens echoes from one of the larger tents on the outskirts of camp as 9S approaches it. Worried that 21O might need some help with whatever is bothering the birds, he shoves his way through the flaps of the tent.

“Mom? What's wrong with the-”

Immediately he’s greeted by the sight of 2B in the middle of the aviary surrounded by a flock of ravens hissing and croaking at the perceived threat. She stands stiff, her eyes darting around the room, hissing in a low tone when one bird hops a little too close for her comfort. She’s so distracted she doesn’t notice 9S enter the tent.

“9S who is this.”

21O storms over to 9S, her feather patterned cloak fluttering behind her. He jumps at her sudden appearance and interrogation.

“Uh, her name-”

“6O left her here while she went to take care of something. She’s upsetting my birds.”

“Her name is 2B. She and I-”

“9S,” 2B jogs over to his side, causing the ravens to all scatter and scream.

“Mom wait let me-”

“She’s your mother?”

“Yes, but-”

9S rushes over to help 21O calm the flock of startled birds with a small device that he clicks and follows up with a treat.

“Here, 2B.” he takes her hand and places a small chunk of meat in her palm, then holds it out to one of the birds, “They’re still nervous around you. This’ll help them calm down.”

21O watches with cautious eyes as her raven snatches the meat from this strange woman’s hand. With 9S’ assistance, she repeats the process until the flock is calmed down enough for them continue with their conversation.

“Okay…” 9S begins. He recounts past events, retelling how he found 2B struggling to swim in the ocean, how she rescued him from the Medullum in the caves, their travels together ultimately meeting up with Jackass and her personal squadron. He’s taken aback in the middle of his story of how much has happened between the two of them in the short time they’ve known each other.

“...So you brought a female Coatyl you found alone into the middle of a military camp. Am I understanding this correctly.”

“Well, when you put it like that-”

“What on the god’s green earth were you thinking?” she accuses, “Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!”

“I’m looking for my sibling.” 2B interjects, just barely hiding an indignant glare, “They left our home months ago to hunt demons. If what 9S told me about this army is true, then I might be able to find them here. I will move on once I have some sort of lead on their whereabouts.”

21O signs and pinches the bridge of her nose, “...And your commanding officer approved this?” she asks 9S.

“Yes, the Commander said that I’m held accountable for her.”

She stares at the two of them, this oddity of a pair. 9S seems genuine about helping her, which isn’t out of the ordinary for him at all. Yet there’s a lingering fear that makes the raven master hesitate. Of course, she trusts her boy’s judgment, but at the same time, there’s that little voice in the back of her mind that warns her to be cautious around this strange new woman. Especially one that seems so close to her son already.

But that’s a conversation for her and 9S alone.

“She’s not dangerous.” 9S says a bit definitely, “She’s not going to hurt you, or me, or your birds, or anyone.”

9S’ pale blue eyes bore into 21O. She can’t remember the last time he was so adamant about anything. Maybe when he would try to get an extra sweet for dessert when he was little, but this has more repercussions than a stomach ache if something were to go wrong.

“...I suppose the decision has been made already, then.” she sighs.

An awkward silence passes between 9S and 21O, neither one having to say much more to the other in the presence of the newcomer.

“Come on, 2B.,” he says, pulling her by the hand to leave the aviary, “Let’s go back to 6O.”


	6. Adjustment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short but fun chapter. As of now im going to also be working on oneshots ive had rattling around in my head for awhile now in between chapters.

The sharp ring of an iron bell jolts 2B awake with its foreign sound. She clumsily rolls out of her cot and fumbles for her sword. In her half-awake, bleary-eyed stupor, she fails to unsheath the flat sword and simply swings it around in its sheath. A series of panicked chirps and caws escape her as she flails about.

“2B…” 6O says with a yawn, “2B-...stop squawking. It’s just the wake-up bell.”  
She stops, eyes wide like a startled bird, “...I know what a bell is. Never heard one so...loud though. So unpleasant.”

“It has to be loud, it’s to wake up the whole camp.”

6O stretches and rises from her own cot. The infirmary tent is only a few yards away from the bell post, and with a Coatyl’s hearing, it’s no wonder 2B was so startled. The panic on her face turns to annoyance as another round of sharp peals echo through the tent.

“You don’t have to be up you know.” 6O laughs.

“How can anyone sleep through that horrible sound.” 2B grumbles.  
“Since you’re not technically enlisted, you can just go back to sleep. Just a warning though, this tent can get pretty hectic at times.”

As if on queue one of the few soldiers nursing a broken limb begins to moan and grumble, causing others to moan and grumble in response.

“...Your people have been kind enough to give me shelter, food, and drink.” 2B yawns, “I would…” another yawn, “Help in any way that I can.”

6O beams at her, and the wilting grasses beneath her feet seem to become healthier, “Then let’s get to work. Can you fill that little pot with dirt for me?”  
2B does as she’s told, scoping a few handfuls of earth from a corner of the tent and filling the pot with fresh soil, “This brings back memories.” she says with a small laugh.

6O retrieves a small pouch and sprinkles a pinch of its contents into the pot of dirt. From another pouch, she produces a few seeds and shoves them deep into the soil, then pours a few drops of water from her flask on it.

“Poppy flowers don’t grow in this area, so we have to grow our own.”

Swirling tattoos on her hands glow a deep green light as she recites a simple druidic chant. Seconds later a sprout rises from the dirt and blooms into a small red and black flower.  
“Take the seeds, grind them up and mix them with a bit of cream.” 6O instructs, “It’s a painkiller that goes down easier than most other potions.”

While 2B grinds the seeds in with a mortar and pestle, 6O tends to a row of other pots of similar flowers.

“So…” 6O says bathed in green light, “You really left, huh.”

“I had to. The way the Elders were talking about them…” 2B trails off, “I have to make sure they’re okay.”

“I know. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re a good fighter.”

“It’s not their combat abilities I’m worried about…You didn’t see them before they left.”

“Oh...yeah.” 6O places a hand on 2B’s shoulder, “...They’ll be fine. If they’re anything like you’ve told me, they wouldn’t have given up that easily.”

2B manages a small smile, “They always were a stubborn one.”

“Totally unlike you, of course.” 6O laughs and jabs her friend in the side.

A soldier on a nearby cot grumbles about the pain in her broken arm, breaking the Coatyl and druid away from their moment. 6O reprimands her for being whiney and 2B falls by the wayside while the two have a small back and forth. The old soldier gulps down the poppy seed milk potion the moment 6O places it next to her cot. She grumbles a thank you before rolling onto her good side and going back to sleep.

2B assists with the morning routine as best she can. Most of the time she holds supplies while 6O changes bandages or administers painkillers. There’s a sneaking suspicion 6O is simply filling her hands with things so that she wouldn’t wander off and start rifling through the tent. It’s clever, but there’s only so long a Coatyl can be kept in line with busy work.

After the most pressing patients were tended to, 6O heads to the mess tent with 2B in tow to prepare a hearty breakfast for those confined to the infirmary. They enter the long tent in the center of camp through the back, avoiding the line of hungry soldiers lining up for a meal of their own. 9S sleepily waves to the pair as they pass him by.

The moment 2B enters the tent behind 6O a medley of powerful smells, herbs, and spices she has no names for, almost make her recoil. About a dozen soldiers labor over the preparation of various vegetables and preserved meats. There are various loaves of salted bread that go from a massive loaf to small portions set next to a bowl. A soldier with a large pot of what smells like meat stew adds several chopped potatoes from a bucket. 2B meanders over to the bucket and grabs a smooth peeled root for herself. It’s an odd thing to her, slimy like raw meat but without blood or smell besides the flakes of dried herbs and salt that coat it. She bites into it with little hesitation. It isn’t entirely...unpleasant. 6O pulls her away from the bucket before she can grab another to test again. She keeps the raw potato with her, however.

Soldiers confined to the infirmary are subject to a lighter breakfast than those on active duty. A small table is set aside for 6O to work on preparing a simple potato stew. To keep 2B from wandering off and stealing more food, she sets her to work chopping up other vegetables. Every so often she has to smack 2B’s hand away from the bits of potato as they go into the pot.

“So much effort for food…” 2B says after a failed attempt to steal a piece of potato.

“Humans don’t eat raw meat, 2B. We get sick from that.”

“I thought that was just you.”

“Well, I don’t eat meat in general.”

“Oh.”

“Most humans- Stop eating the potatoes- Most humans eat meat, we just have to cook it first.”

“Hm.”

Once the vegetables and a few less spuds than anticipated are in the pot, they add generous amounts of water from one of the many storage barrels and head outside to the large cookfire. Despite the fire licking at the pot, 2B can’t help but try and snag another bit of potato that floats to the top.

However, with lightning speed, 6O smacks her square on the back of the hand with her wooden spoon.

“I’m gonna toss you into the pot and call it chicken soup if you don’t stop.” she threatens, waving her spoon in 2B’s face. 2B simply squawks indignantly in response.

It’s mere minutes before the stew is aromatic and steaming, and 6O immediately shoves the pot into 2B’s hands in hopes of preventing the loss of more potatoes. Luckily she only tried to go bobbing for spuds once before she realized that was not a good idea.

Once back in the infirmary tent, they line up those who can stand in a similar fashion to how the soldiers were lined up at the mess tent. 2B unceremoniously leaves bowls by the beds the soldiers who can’t stand up.

“Geez, 2B. You’re...a bit lacking in bedside manner.”

“What? I thought I was doing a good job…”

“Well, you’re not doing a _bad_ job. Just be a bit gentler.”

“I’ll try but I’m no-”

Suddenly, the tent flaps are shoved aside by none other than the raven master, 21O with 9S close behind her. 6O beams at them and rushes over to the pair.

“Good morning, Birdie!” she greets with a mischievous smirk.

21O scowls at her, and then at 9S when he fails to contain a snort, “Good morning, 6O.”

“Everything alright?”

9S moves past the two of them and over to 2B’s side, earning him a stern gaze from 21O, “Just coming in for a quick checkup. How’s your morning been, you two?”

“Well, we discovered that 2B likes potatoes.”

“I like potatoes,” 2B says with a short nod.

9S blinks, “...Great.”

6O motions for him to sit down on an empty cot nearby, “Does your chest still hurt?”  
He removes his tunic, “Every so often,” he says, pointing to a few places on his side that are still discolored, “When I stretch too much to one side or take a really deep breath.”

6O holds makes him hold his arms out straight so she can examine his bare chest closer. The swirling tattoos on her hands glow a pale green light, “Seems like there’s still some bruising...I guess injuries from other Enochians don’t heal as quickly for you, huh.”

9S shakes his head at the proper name for his kind, “Looks that way…” he sighs, “The one thing my demon blood was good for, and it doesn’t even work against the monster’s we’re fighting.”

6O casts a glance at the frowning 21O before going back to examining 9S, “Right...Anyway, I’m keeping you on light duty for a couple more days. Take it easy and come on in if you feel worse.”

After throwing his tunic back on, 9S and 21O leave the infirmary. He waves at 2B, who mimics him a bit awkwardly.

“I still don’t trust her,” 21O mutters once they’re outside.

“Huh?”

“That Coatyl. They don’t leave their villages, they’re exiled.”

“...The Commander mentioned that to me…” 9S says quietly, “...But I don’t think she’s dangerous.”

21O raises an eyebrow at him, “And why is that.”

“She might be a bit...dull, but she seems to have good intentions. She’s just trying to find her family…And she’s saved my life on more than one occasion. 2B has a good heart, I’m sure of it.”

The conversation ends there as they return to the aviary. Being on light duty means that 9S can’t patrol the camp, or spar, or do much of anything that requires full use of his battered body. So he helps out his mother in receiving and sorting letters sent in by raven. The majority are addressed to the commander herself and are sorted by the importance denoted by their wax seals. The rest are unmarked letters to soldiers from families and lovers, which get dealt out later in the evening.

“Man, the Commander is getting a lot more letters lately. Wonder what’s going on…”

“You know you’re not supposed to read them.’ 21O scolds.

9S lets out a short huff, “I know. What, I’m not allowed to be curious?”

“No, I…” 21O sighs, her shoulders sagging, “I just want you to be careful, 9S.” She sets aside a large stack of envelopes. Her normally steely cold gaze is soft, even a bit sad.

He tries to study his mother’s face, but can’t seem to place anything beyond genuine concern, “...Yeah...right. I will. Sorry for making you worry, Mom.”

“Things are changing. You’re changing…”

9S sputters, his face heating up rapidly, “Whoa...Mom, I don’t think we-...I mean we already had this conversation when I was a teenager, right?!”

“We did.”

“What, do I have to go through a second puberty?”

“It’s not hard to see the way you act around that Coatyl.”

“M-Mom!”

“And the way she acts around you.”

“I think you might be reading too much into this, she’s just a friend! A new one at that!”

21O’s eyebrows furrow together into that familiar scowl, “If these were normal circumstances, we wouldn’t be having this talk. But we are not normal humans.”

9S clutches his pendant, “I…”

“You’re half incubus, and don’t know the extent of your own abilities yet. It’s not only you I’m worried about. If you’re not careful, you could put your new friend in danger as well.”  
“I...I hadn’t thought about that…” he mumbles.

Of course, those kinds of thoughts cross his mind, he’d be a liar if he tries to deny it, but it’s only now that he realizes that they can be deadly simply because of his parentage. One misstep, one wayward touch even, and he could lose himself to his monstrous blood.

21O sighs and pulls her son into a soft, familiar embrace, “You’re a brilliant boy, I trust you to make the right decisions. Your...your true parents would be proud of you, just as I am.”

The young halfbreed manages a smile despite the guilt and uncertainty twisting in his heart, “...Thanks, Mom.”


	7. Sparring Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter fun one but next time we pick up the pace!

It’s always stressful for 9S whenever he knows the Commander is on the verge of a big decision. She’ll sequester herself in her tent for days and the moment she’s seen again the army will be on the move to a city or a battlefront. His only clue to how close a decision is is how frequently he sees Jackass. She’s always been the Commander’s closest confidant to the point where scandalous rumors began to circulate. Not that he paid any attention to those rumors, or  
ever tried to see for himself if they had any truth to them. Of course not.

There are several options 9S has to relieve this creeping tension. He could go and patrol in the surrounding woods for a few hours of quiet, or help his mother with menial sorting and tidying, or sharpen and polish his lance. However, the best solution was to grab a training sword and spar with some other stressed soldiers.

A swath of land untouched by attendants serves as an arena of sorts, where soldiers train with each other in various styles of combat under their own supervision and regiments. Typically these matches are simply fronts to settle arguments between soldiers quickly, but any excuse to keep oneself in shape during this downtime is a good one.

As 9S approaches, he spots a familiar figure sitting on a log by the arena. 2B stares intently at two soldiers sparring in the glorified pit of mud, those steely blue eyes following each strike and block. She doesn’t even notice when he sits down next to her on the log.

“Hello, 9S.”

Or maybe she does.

“Hey. What have you been up to today? Leaving the potatoes alone, I hope.”

“I’ve been studying your people’s sword techniques by watching these fights for a few hours.”

“Well, at least you’re staying out of trouble-...wait a few hours?!”

“Yes,” she says, finally prying away from the two soldiers, “Your style is a lot more...simple, compared to how I learned.”

9S has only seen 2B in action a few times but he’s inclined to agree with her. It’s still a blow to his pride having years of learning reduced to the word “simple”.

“Well, it might not be flashy, but it’s effective and it’s easier to teach soldiers in a short time.”

2B levels her gaze at him, “The strikes are predictable and easily countered. Any sort of advanced technique would easily defeat someone using it.”

He laughs, “Sure in a one on one, but twenty soldiers against one warrior doing a bunch of dances pretending to be swordplay aren’t exactly in the warrior’s favor.”

“Yes, it is,” she replies, “The warrior’s skill would easily allow them to defeat one soldier per strike. Style allows for strikes and avoidance in one movement.”

“Okay, no. There’s no way any fighter, no matter the skill level, could defeat a whole battalion attacking them at once.”

“There’s a reason stories aren’t told of the feats of militaries. Where’s the honor in rushing one opponent?”

“Uh, survival for one. Safety in numbers and all that. Why train one person for years to be the pinnacle of technique when you can train over a thousand soldiers to be competent in that time? Wars aren’t won by a handful of heroes strutting onto the battlefield.”

“It’s not about being the pinnacle of technique, it’s condensing your defense and offense into a fluid motion, and inspiring fearful awe in your targets.”

“Okay,” 9S says, rising to his feet, “Let’s see first hand who’s right.”

2B stays silent as he sheds the decorative coat of his scout uniform and retrieves two wooden swords from a shoddy rack nearby. For a moment she thinks he’s joking, yet he hands her the training weapon with no hint of humor on his face.

“...You’re challenging me?” 2B asks, taking the sword tentatively.

“I am.”

Surely this boy can’t be serious? He’s fought by her side numerous times while they traveled together, he knows what she’s capable of. She looks over 9S’ thin arms and nearly petite body as he takes a few practice swings while he waits for her decision. He looks so frail, like he’s never had a hearty piece of meat in his life. There’s no way he could stand up to her even with these wooden toys.

And yet…

9S has shown competency and strength in their short time together. He’s no dragon, of course, but he’s no human either. 2B has seen him stand up to creatures far stronger than him and emerge victoriously. He’s cunning, agile, and perceptive. Not to mention skilled with a lance.

Perhaps this will be more interesting than she first thought.

“Alright. I accept.”

2B rises to her full height and 9S can’t help but feel like he’s made a mistake. She’s a dragon and he’s a scrawny scout with some cursed blood. His confidence shatters the moment he sees her remove her robe. Her undershirt is tight to her body, showing off the subtle muscle definition of her arms, stomach, and chest. The sunlight glints off of the faint outlines of the scales that cover her skin. She takes a couple of practice swings of her own and even with minimal effort the air sings with each strike.

Yeah, he’s going to get his ass kicked.

9S beckons 2B into the arena before his common sense gets the better of him. She strides as confidently beside him as if she’s held a wooden sword her entire life. With how little he knows about her past she might as well have been born with a sword in her hand. ...Or did she hatch? ...Maybe he should get her drunk and ask.

They stand ten paces apart from each other, 9S assuming the proper stance he was taught. One hand flat against his back with the sword pointed square at her...chest. 2B stands with her sword relaxed by her side. At first glance, she looks like a normal woman but her gaze is that of a bird of prey, fittingly. He watches her muscles coil and tense, he can see every possible action and reaction flashing before her eyes. She’s predicting his movements before he’s even made them.

9S’ first movement is a simple one. A step to the right, one foot crossing over the other. In that insignificant yet vulnerable moment just before his foot hits the mud, 2B rushes forward with blinding speed. He barely has time to react, blocking with his own blade and taking another step out of the way, but 2B is relentless and forces him back even further with strike after strike.  
Their wooden blades meet in a brief clash, their raw strength directly opposed to each other. Knowing he’ll lose a direct match of strength, 9S fights dirty. He hooks his foot behind 2B’s and yanks back. Her balance falters just enough for him to push back and gain the upper hand.  
2B on the defensive is just as spectacular as her on the offensive. She keeps her sword close to her body as opposed to keeping it extended to block. Her movements don’t seem like the ones of someone who is afraid of being hit, but of someone who is waiting and watching for the perfect opportunity. She’s studying 9S while he’s attacking her.

With an almost imperceptible flick of her wrist 2B switches her grip so that she holds the sword in an unconventional reverse grip, keeping the blade parallel with her arm. She lashes out with a viper-quick strike to 9S’ shoulder while his guard is down. Despite the quickly forming red patch, 9S retaliates quickly with two quick blows of his own. One slash connects to her side just above her hip, the other clips her forearm. If he wasn’t in the heat of battle, he’d be proud that he even got one hit in.

9S steps back instead of attempting a third strike. One of the most important things he learned when he first started his training was to not get greedy. Two or three hits is more than enough to bring an opponent back on the offensive and get them to open themselves up for more. Sure enough, 2B charges him again with her practice sword primed for attack. He rushes to meet her with a strike of his own but just as his sword is about to connect with hers, she spins sharply to the right. His sword misses completely and he’s blinded by her rapid movements that he doesn’t see the hilt of her sword until it slams him square in the chest.

He knew 2B was strong, but being on the receiving end makes him reevaluate just how strong she is. From a normal person, that kind of blow to the chest would stagger him for a moment. From 2B it’s another story. He flies backward a good foot or so and lands in a patch of mud. His free hand clutches at his tunic as he tries to regain his breath. In his daze he sees 2B hesitate for a split second, concern breaking through her intense expression. However the moment he starts to rise to his feet she reverts back to the offensive.

2B rushes him as he scrambles back into his stance, barely getting his sword up in time to block. One strike is deflected, then a second, but the third breaks his guard and a flurry of powerful blows make him wish he wore some kind of padded armor. One of her last hits connects with a tender spot where his neck meets his shoulder. He lets out a sharp cry, stumbling backward and nearly dropping his sword. Again, 2B stops and that worried look returns.

9S isn’t sure what happens next. His body moves without him commanding it as if he’s acting on instinct. While 2B waits for him to recover, he rushes her and thrusts his sword at her hip. But his strike never connects, as 2B expertly sidesteps his charge. Before 9S can even register what has happened, the wooden blade slams against his back. He flies forward as if he’s been hit by a bull, tumbling down into the mud and landing on his back. His vision swirls with bright colors broken up by black dots as his stomach churns after being turned on end over and over.  
Lying flat on his back in the mud is an odd time to admire the sky, but that’s exactly what 9S finds himself doing. The area had been in a long stretch of grey overcast skies, that seeing blue and fluffy white clouds is enough to make his disoriented mind feel just a bit better. His thoughts are interrupted by 2B’s boot pressing down on his chest, and her training sword just barely touching his throat.

“Had enough?” she says with the faintest hint of a smile.

Her eyes spark with a fire that 9S finds hard to describe. Even if her face is neutral aside from the smirk, that energy lights up her whole expression. Or maybe it’s just the sun that’s positioned just behind her head, bathing her in a soft light that illuminates her hair and refracts off her scales.

9S gives her a bewildered slow nod and reaches out to her to help him up. She stabs the wooden sword into the mud before taking his hand in hers. With her help, he rises to his feet but he holds onto her just a bit longer as a sudden bout of lightheadedness takes him.

“Ugh…” he mutters while struggling to keep his balance, “I think you made your point.”

2B says something to him accompanied by a short laugh, but 9S can’t make anything out through the ringing in his ears. He feels as if all the blood in his head has rushed away from it, leaving him a wobbling mess covered in bruises. There’s a strangely familiar ache in his gut, but his entire body is aching so he doesn’t pay it much mind.

It isn’t until he looks on 2B’s face smiling lightly at him that the ache in his gut turns to a sharp pang somewhere lower.

His body locks up as it dawns on him what’s happening, “I uh-...I gotta run.” he says quickly.

9S nearly sprints over to grab his heavy uniform coat, tying it tightly so that it covers mostly everything.

“Oh, uh...alright,” 2B looks almost disappointed that there won’t be a second round soon.

“I just have to take care of something really quick. I uh-... I forgot about a task Mom wanted me to do.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No!” he shouts, “...No uh-...It’s fine I can take care of it.”

Before 2B can protest further, 9S dashes away in the direction of the forest. She stands there for a moment, bewildered by the sudden change in attitude from her friend. A sudden change in wind brings a pungent musty scent to her, and all she can do is laugh a little.


	8. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I'll have a consistent update schedule

“So you shat your pants?” 11S asks.

The other scouts at the table can’t help but laugh at 9S, who buries his face in his arms in an attempt to make himself as small as possible.

“No! I keep telling you I didn’t shit my pants!” he yells just loud enough for the whole mess tent to hear him. He catches a glimpse of 2B giving him an odd look before he sinks into himself more, “She just...We were sparring and she won and I got embarrassed. That’s it!”

“Oooh no, that’s not it,” 801S, an older scout, says with a sly grin, “You were all sweaty, squirming, acting all hot and bothered.”

“I was not!!”

“Yes, you were!” 801S’ singsong voice makes 9S groan, “Did getting your ass kicked by a lovely lady...excite you? Is our Nines a little deviant?”

9S feels his face flush beet red, prompting a round of laughter from the table, “I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t stop!!”

“What a story this will be!” shouts 42S, an aspiring bard, “9S, the young scout with a troubled past, returns from his northern excursion with an exotic and mysterious Coatyl woman! Her beauty only matched by her ferocity! A simple sparring match goes awry when things become deliciously heated and they-”

“That is if 6O doesn’t snatch her up first.” mutters 32S.

The table erupts into laughter once again. Fed up with their antics, 9S abruptly stands up and tries to make a hasty exit from the mess tent.

“Attention!!”

The bellowing voice of Commander White stops him in his tracks and silences the tent of hungry soldiers in an instant. Her steely gaze scans the tent to make certain she has everyone’s full attention.

“Tomorrow at dawn,” she begins, “We will be beginning our march towards Vigo.”

Murmurs ripple through the mess tent.

“I realize this is a month earlier than when we had planned originally, but we have received word that an aquatic demon of unknown size has been sighted in the bay. All ship traffic has been halted until the demon is either destroyed or moves on.”

Again, she waits until the muttering amongst the soldiers comes to a stop.

“Our task remains the same, however. We will assist Vigo in the evacuation of civilians, defending refugee camps, and transportation of supplies. The only thing that’s changed as of now is when we’re expected. Dismissed.”

The moment Commander White turns to exit the tent, conversation erupts from all the tables. All except the scouts, who share concerned looks with each other. Even 9S returns to his seat, his annoyance with the others quickly abandoned.

“A demon in the bay? What do you think it could be?” 32S mutters.

“Maybe a siren type?”

“I thought those were smaller…”

“They can get big, I’ve read reports of one that was the size of a mammoth.”

“That wouldn’t be enough to shut down a whole trade city.”

“Maybe it’s just a whale?”

“Whale’s don’t come into bays, dumbass.”

“What if…” 9S says, staring through his friends, “What if it’s something new?”

The others give him odd looks, “What do you mean, new?” 11S asks.

“I mean what if this is something we haven’t seen before? An aquatic siege engine type? Transport type? Or maybe some weird whale hybrid they’re trying to roll out.”

“...If it’s that, how in the world would we get rid of it?” 801S rubs his chin in thought.

9S shrugs, “Dunno, but that’s not really our job, is it?”

“No, but I’m gonna guess you’re gonna try and find out what the plan is,” he says with a grin.

“I won’t be doing anything if you lot don’t keep your mouths shut.” he growls.

The scouts ease back into their normal conversations, mainly complaints about the early start tomorrow. Before he gets drawn back into the group, he spots 2B on her way out and gives her a small wave. She returns his gesture, and he can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face.

“Have you ever been to Vigo, 2B?” 6O asks as they exit the mess tent.

“-M made a point t’ stay away fr-...m human settlements.” she responds with a mouthful of potatoes, “There were too many stories we were told as cubs of Coatyls being hunted for sport or paraded around circuses.”

“Right…” 6O sighs, “so, does that mean you’re not gonna stick around when we get to Vigo?”

“I...I’m not sure yet. I still don’t have a good lead on where A2 is. Maybe this city will have something.”

“You think they might be hiding out in Vigo?”

“Or someone that may have seen something.”

“You’re not seriously going to ask every person in the city if they’ve seen them, are you?”  
There’s a hint of genuine concern in 6O’s voice that makes 2B huff, “Well when you say it out loud…”

6O giggles and playfully jabs her in the side. “I’m just teasing you. I’ll help you ask around when I’m off duty.”

2B mutters a quick thanks, then quickly looks over her shoulder as the laughter of the scouts' echoes through the tent. For such small men, they could certainly be quite loud.

“Well, we’d be glad to have you stick around with us, 2B. I know there would be some of us that would be sad to see you go.”

“Hm...Perhaps.”

 

* * *

 

True to her word, Commander White’s wake up call came before the sun had begun to rise. Or rather, Lieutenant Jackass’ wake up call. She parades around the camp, slamming two iron cooking pans together and shouting as loud as her lungs will allow. One by one, annoyed soldiers emerge from the tents, only to be immediately assigned a task to break down the camp. Within minutes, activity surges through the encampment and it begins to disappear, packed into crates and carriages, piece by piece. The sun is just cresting over the horizon by the time there’s nothing left but a worn down patch of dirt.

9S and the other scouts are assigned to helping the stablehands with the horses. They hitch up the temperamental beasts with little resistance. Despite being bred for war, they seem to sense that something is about to change and need to be calmed down with pats and bribery treats every so often. 9S isn’t too bothered, however. He’s been around horses as long as he can remember; their bizarre behaviors comes as no surprise to him. In fact, they seem to be fairly comfortable around him, one of the large chestnut geldings even nibbles at his hair to get a laugh out of him.

2B, on the other hand, does not mix well with horses.

With her dragonic strength, she volunteered herself to lift some of the heavier crates. Things that would take two or three full-grown men to lift, she would carry like it was nothing. Occasionally, 9S will stop in his tracks as he watches her heft box after box into a carriage, with 6O standing close by cheering her on.

Other times he watches her try to pat the dappled mare that’s hitched to the carriage she’s loading, only for the agitated beast to try and bite off her fingers. She squawks and leaps back, yelling profanities and jumping between common and a strange language 9S presumes to be dragonic. The mare, of course, doesn’t yell back. She just snorts and shakes her head at nothing in particular while 2B hisses at her.

It’s...much less impressive than watching her feats of strength.

Still, he can’t help but laugh. It makes her seem far less intimidating. Endearing, even. It’s nice to see she’s not always so dour and serious, or at least not the point that she isn’t above arguing with a horse.

She really is something...

He snorts as 6O eventually steps between the huffy Coatyl and the horse as if she’s separating two brawlers. They’re too far away for him to hear the conversation fully, but he swears he hears 6O telling 2B that she would lose that fight. 9S makes a mental note to tease her about this later. For now, though, he has a list of tasks to deal with, including helping his mother load fifteen cages of ornery ravens into carts.

Being the unofficial assistant to a healer means 2B is volunteered to help sick and injured soldiers into a cramped carriage set to be in the middle of the march. Her strength makes lifting full grown men easy, but 6O and the other healers have to guide her into not jostling broken limbs and tender stitching too much.

By the time the army would normally be settling in for breakfast, they begin the march towards Vigo. By 21O’s rough estimation they would reach the city within the week, but they would have to keep a quick pace. Traveling alone is one thing, but traveling with the entire company is another. No falling behind or rushing ahead. Everything must be in time with each other, otherwise, the whole caravan would fall apart. Commander White rides at the front, flanked by Jackass and several high ranking officers. Behind them, most of the army keeps pace with supply carriages dotted within the ranks. A troop of the best performing soldiers brings up the rear as a precaution against surprise attacks.

However, a solid mile ahead of the main army, the scouts travel in a loose and unsuspecting band, with one addition. 2B circles above them, flying ahead for a mile or so and then doubling back to circle a few times, then repeating the process. She insisted on staying with the scouts despite the protests of 9S. He did not take too kindly to her pointing out that they were small and easily targeted by anything larger than a house cat. She was right, but she didn’t have to say it so harshly…If a fight did break out, having a dragon overhead would be an incredible boon.

He could do without the teasing, though.

“You’re a lucky little bastard, you know that?” 11S says as 2B circles their group.

9S looks up at his friend and sighs, “What?”

“You know what people would give to have a godsdamned dragon be interested in them?”

He feels his cheeks heat up, “She’s not interested in me.”

“Why is she literally hovering above you, though?”

“Cause we’re easy targets!”

“Getting a bit defensive there, aren’t ya, Nines?” 801S says with a sly smile.

“Yeah, you’re not subtle there, buddy.” adds 11S. “It’s pretty obvious what’s going on.”

“And what exactly is ‘going on’?” 9S huffs.

“You fancy her.”

9S sputters and stops in his tracks, “I d-...Bu-....Y-...Shut up! She can probably hear you!”

801S cackles and 9S swears he sees 2B’s head tilt downward before she soars on ahead once more.

“So you do!”

“Well it’s obvious isn’t it?!” 9S growls. “I mean, you’ve seen her, she’s gorgeous and strong and-!”

He feels a roiling in his stomach at the admission of his feelings coming to light. It’s nonsensical though! It’s not like he’s about to propose to her, he’s just admitting to finding her attractive. So why does it feel like he’s about to vomit?!

“Tell her then,” 32S mumbles bluntly.

“Are you mad?! No! She’d eat me alive!”

“She didn’t eat you alive when you got a hard-on from her kicking your ass, that means she likes  
you, right?” 42S says to himself mostly.

“I did not-!!” 9S takes a deep breath and tries to calm his embarrassment before he ends up shouting loud enough for the Commander to hear, “...Look, so what if I do...fancy her, there’s no way she’d ever give a moment of her time to someone like me.”

801S gives him a sideways glare, “What the hell are you talking about, 9S?”

“2B’s the kind of person who’d end up with a legendary hero or something, not some scrawny half-breed.”

“You might not be entirely wrong, but there’s plenty of self-made heroes in this army,” 801S says with nothing but sincerity in his voice. “Yet she’s spending her time with you.”

“And 6O,” 42S adds quickly.

“And 6O but, let's face it, Nines. 6O is more likely to be your new step-mom than she is to snatch up 2B.”

“Hey, wait a second, what the hell does that mean?!”

Their conversation switches in the blink of an eye and as 9S gets drawn into another round of teasing, he sees 2B flying a bit closer to the ground than before. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, and in an instant, she’s soaring ahead of the group once more.

9S feels his stomach drop and flutter at the same time.


	9. Fireside Chat

“Damnit!” 9S shouts, kicking a charred plank.

Ash billows out over the darkening sky as the wood crumbles into dust. A light gust carried the cloud of soot over what remains of the humble grain village; a few free standing bits of scaffolding, defaced statues of the region’s senator, and blackened remnants of stone structures.

“This is the fourth one in a row…” 32S mumbles, burying his head in his hands.

“But…” 801S stammers, “I was here not...a month ago! I was here and it was fine! Everyone was fine!”

He sinks to the ground, a cloud of ash billowing out around him. 9S wraps his arms around his friend’s shoulders as 801S lists the people he met (or at least he thinks they’re people he met...it’s impossible to one charred corpse from the next) who ended up in a vile mass grave burning in the center of town. His voice chokes on the name of a farmhand he had been writing to for some time.

“Why...Why would they attack here?!” 801S yells, “There’s nothing here but wheat! No soldiers lived here! There’s no walls, no battlements...They were just farmers!”

For a moment, a heavy silence fills the air between them.

“...The demons are trying to starve us out,” 11S growls, putting words to what they had realized when they arrived, “It isn’t just bloodlust that makes them target these defenseless towns. These farms supply food all across the Republic. Cut off the supply…”

“...And the capitols weaken,” 9S finishes. “The armies weaken.”

The scouts remain quiet, either out of respect for the dead or from the icy fear that grabs hold of their hearts. Somewhere in the back of all of their minds they knew they were fighting an uphill battle, but this is the first time where they fully realize they’re on the losing side of this war. Grossly outnumbered, outmaneuvered at every turn, unable to keep up with the rapid evolution of their enemy. The only ones that stood a chance were the Devoted, but none of the Theocratic clergymen were allowed within the ranks of a Republic army.

“...One of us should double back to the Commander,” 32S says, breaking the silence.

A low sigh escapes 9S. “No one’s gonna be happy about this. We’ve been marching for nearly three days straight.”

9S volunteers to be the one to go back while the other scouts press onward. A strictly maintained five mile gap separates the main force from the scouts, but with only flat farmland and open fields to cross, it doesn’t take long for him to see Commander White atop her warhorse leading the troops. He falls in step next to her and Lieutenant Jackass’ horses easily.

“Well?” White asks, exhaustion creeping into her normally level tone.

9S sighs. “No good. That town’s been razed too. No survivors either.”

“Damn…” Jackass rubs her face with one hand. “We can’t push them for much longer, White.”

“We can’t stop,” the Commander snaps and pulls a small map from her saddlebag. “It’s far too dangerous to halt everyone out in these open fields.”

“It’s also too dangerous to make exhausted soldiers try to defend anything. Look at them White, any longer than another day or so and they’ll start dropping.”

She gestures to the irregular lines of soldiers and carts, most nursing varying degrees of injury that come with days of nonstop movement. A few hitch rides on carts wherever they can find space, or double up on the back of a horse just to get some kind of reprieve. Even 2B, who 9S can see peeking around the bulk of the army, sits on the healer’s supply cart with 6O.

“Here,” White says, snapping 9S out of his thoughts. “There’s a proper town half a day beyond the one we’re about to pass. Walls and a militia. If that’s been razed too, we stop anyway.”

“Understood.”

With time of the essence Jackass loans 9S her horse, a brown stallion named Hort, to ride further ahead. With the speed of the ornery beast, he catches up to the other scouts within the hour. Relaying the information brings some light and hope back to the scouts. 801S hops on the back of Hort, sitting close behind him as they ride.

To pass the time, the pair chat idly about whatever crosses their mind, careful to avoid heavier subjects or politics. 801S teases 9S about 2B, and in turn 9S teases 801S about the archer boy he’s been eyeing for a while. They reminisce about old times, simpler times, till they see the turrets of the town’s walls.

“Their wall’s still standing!” 801S shouts, bouncing excitedly much to the displeasure of Hort.

9S is about speak, but the sight of a wooden sign with a crude depiction of a half-demon stops the words in his throat. Though it is devoid of words, the message is clear enough to him. A warning. A threat.

801S’ expression sours when he notices the tension creeping through 9S. “...Stop the horse here. I’ll go ahead inside and let the town know the main force is on its way.”

“Thanks,” 9S says with a shudder in his voice.

Uncertainty worms its way through his gut as he rides back towards the advancing army. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s come across a town with that kind of mindset, but it always brings risk. It isn’t exactly like he can blame them, either. With the only thing separating the town from the demon hordes roaming around is a few stones, paranoia is to be expected.

At least within the ranks of an army he’s relatively safe.

The sun reaches its highest peak by the time 9S reaches White again, who announces the good news. Soldiers erupt into cheers, energy surging back through their exhausted bodies. They don’t even complain when she announces that the march will move into double time to reach the town before nightfall, in fact it seems to bolster their spirits further.

9S returns Hort to his owner and hops onto the healer’s wagon with 6O and 2B.

“So, what are you ladies talking about? Girl things?” he asks with a smirk.

6O snorts, “We have much better things to talk about than fashion and marriage.”

2B tilts her head to the side in a way that 9S can’t help but consider adorable. “Is that what humans consider feminine?”

“Well, yeah,” 9S says with as much confusion as is on 2B’s face, “What do Coatyls consider feminine?”

“Stoicism, well maintained weapons, and…” 2B pauses to think for a moment. “...A healthy amount of bloodlust.”

“Oh. That...explains some things.”

6O laughs at his expense. 2B just holds that same bewildered expression she has whenever she’s confronted with the novelties of human culture as 9S and 6O trade playful punches with each other.

“Anyway, 2B,” 6O begins once she’s had her fill of punching and laughing at 9S, “as I was saying, my patron god isn’t necessarily evil. None of the old gods are, they’re simply...forces of nature.”

“Oh no,” 9S groans. “She’s doing this again.”

“Quiet, you.”

He sticks his tongue out at her, but lets 6O continue.

“I’m familiar with the pantheon, but why...that one?” 2B asks.

“They’re representative of nature, decay, the cyclical aspects of life; that kind of thing. They’re a bit overlooked compared to some of the other, more powerful gods.”

“Wait, which one is this again?” 9S interrupts.

“Their name isn’t exactly pronounceable by the untrained tongue, and invoking it without warrant can have...nasty consequences. Roughly translated, the name is Infinite Equine, or Long Horse.”

“Ugh, right. That nasty horse skull thing. It’s so creepy!”

“I have to agree with 9S,” 2B says. “It is a bit...off-putting.”

“What did you think the manifestation of life, death, and rebirth was going to look like?!” 6O snaps. “A cute little rabbit?!”

“You’re a cute little rabbit!” 9S shouts, and bursts into laughter a second later.

“That...doesn’t seem like an insult,” 2B says through barely contained laughter.

True to the Commander’s word, the army arrives at the town’s gates as just as the moon begins to rise. 801S and the rest of the scouts, along with a few local guards, greet them as they pass through the walls. The townsfolk who are still wrapping up their daily routines stop and stare at the army nearly four times the size of their haphazard militia marching down their main street.

He knows it’s a fools game, but 9S can’t help but let his mind wander. This town is decently fortified, relatively clean, not destitute but not aristocratic...It’d be the perfect place to settle down once the war is over. To finally stop being a soldier, being a part of an army and live a simple life. Maybe even get married and start a family. His gaze wanders to 2B, who looks around the town and its well maintained brick buildings with wonder.

Well..so long as he’s fantasizing.

He must look like a blushing maid, but at the moment he doesn’t really care. It’s good for the mind to indulge in the ideal future every now and then. Images play across his mind in quick succession, each one more unobtainable than the last. It doesn’t stop his heart from fluttering at the thought.

What a silly daydream this is. Why would a warrior such as 2B have any desire to be a housewife, to raise children, or to settle down entirely? She probably intends to live and die on the battlefield, swathed in blood and glory. He doesn’t pay it too much mind, it is a simple daydream after all. No need to get too hung up on reality.

Until reality hits him square in the chest.

As the army passes through the center of town, 9S comes face to face with the grim truth of his life. In the middle of the open plaza, a crude wooden gallows looms over them, and from this morbid structure hangs a recent victim.

The body, whose face is obscured by a roughspun sack, appears fresh. The skin is only a pale shade of purple and rot has yet to set in. His hands are bound behind his back with thick rope that cuts into the skin, staining them black with dried blood. He’s stripped of clothing, revealing thick brown fur that covers him from the waist down, barely concealing the wound where his genitals would have been as well as the hooves in place of human feet. A length of parchment hangs from his chest, held in place by rusting iron hooks.

“Here hangs…..for the crime of Demonic Parentage.”

The name appears to have been vandalized, instead of identifying the victim, it instead reads slurs and obscenities 9S would rather not read in their entirety.

A number of soldiers, including 21O and Jackass, fidget and shy away as they pass the body. Tension worms its way through everyone, even the horses grumble with agitation.

He pulls his hood around his face and sinks into anonymity within the ranks of the army.

What a fool he is to dream.

* * *

The army pitches a slap-dash camp on the northern side of the town, a rough series of tents and bedrolls. It isn’t much, but it gives the soldiers a chance to sit down and rest within the safety of the walls. They eat and drink and sing bawdy songs around a small fire, and despite the dire state of the war levity and joy returns to the army. If only for a moment.

It all proves to be too much for 2B, who excuses herself to river a few miles away when the songs take a much louder and raunchier turn. She underestimated just how social humans were, the constant chatting and the way they move around in groups of three or more, groups of people who weren’t even related. The open air and quiet solitude is something she needed before she starts snapping at people.

This region’s fish are small, too small for her liking. She should have expected it: the water barely came up to her scaled ankles. They’re more like snacks than a proper meal, each one barely larger than her beak. 6O warned her about passersby that might see a giant white dragon and attack, but the only thing that catches her eye is a deer that gets a bit too close for her liking. She eats her fill of fresh fish, something she’s found herself longing for since falling in with White’s army, then flies back to the town.

2B perches on the top of the wall, taking a moment to preen her wings of dirt and grime. To her surprise the camp is silent, save for the snores of soldiers and the crackling of one remaining campfire. The way they were carrying on, she thought they were going to be at it all night. Their leader must have told them the march would resume early. To 2B, someone who possesses the gift of flight, the whole idea of an ordered march seems unnecessary. She chastises herself for thinking this way, these humans and their awful work beasts called horses don’t have the same abilities she does, so they must work around their faults.

The approaching footsteps of a local guard break her from her musings. Not wanting to attract unwanted attention herself, she hops from the top of the wall in the middle of a transformation. A swordswoman out for a quiet walk is more explainable than a feathered beast in a human’s eyes.

As 2B wanders past the last dying campfire, she notices a familiar face sitting alone. Curled into himself, sitting on the ground, is 9S. His face is buried in his arms, but the shock of white hair is unmistakable, even in the low light. A sharp pang shoots through 2B’s chest at the pathetic sight and finds herself walking over to him.

9S looks up at the sound of encroaching footsteps with fear in his eyes, though his features quickly soften once he realizes it’s only 2B. He gives her a half hearted wave before wrapping his arms around himself.

“You seem troubled,” 2B says, sitting on the ground next to him.

“Huh?” He rubs his face. “No, no I’m fine. I’m…”

“A poor liar.”

9S lets out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. I guess so.”

2B gives him a moment to collect himself. He sits up straighter, kicking his legs out and letting himself stretch and get a few breaths of cool night air.

“I guess it’s...I’m…” He sighs. “You never really get used to seeing a body that…that could have been you.”

“Ah...I see,” 2B mutters.

How could she be so dense? Of course seeing something like that would affect him. She should try to comfort him.

She has no idea how to comfort humans.

“I’m sorry,” 9S says. “It’s...it’s silly to be scared. White’s army is one of the only safe places for people like me...For half-demons. We can live and work and fight without having to fear our friends turning on us. But…”

He swallows a lump forming in his throat and wipes his eyes. “But the moment I step outside the army, the moment I try and form a life outside combat and war...I could end up on the end of a rope. Or worse.”

“You look human, though. Your charm necklace conceals anything suspect.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t foolproof.” He turns the little charm in his fingers a few times. “It’s weak magic, something a child could pull off. Easily detected or disarmed, but discrete and easy to make. Mom-...21O made this for me, it’s like the one she’s got.”

9S taps the jewel twice. With a faint shimmer, small nub-like growths appear just below his hairline, parting his hair slightly. His thin tail curls around his leg, and his eyes fade to nearly pure white.

It’s odd, 2B has only seen this form only once before, but the shock is gone. It’s about as strange to her as seeing him with a different haircut. So instead of recoiling in fear, all she does is tilt her head a little.

He taps the jewel again and the demonic features disappear. “It’s so stupid...everyone’s so scared of a few weird additions. But...We’re capable of...gods know what.”

9S hangs his head in shame and curls back into himself. He rests his forehead on his knees. “Are you scared, too?”

She twists the end of her robe between her clawed fingers. “I...I’ve never met a half-demon before you, I must admit.”

“Really?”

2B shakes her head and stares into the embers. “I’ve only ever had...encounters...with proper demons.” Her hands curl into fists. “They attacked our village one day, without warning. Even our strongest warriors had trouble fighting them off. They killed…I don’t know how many of us. The village was devastated in just an hour.”

“Oh…”

An aching cold creeps its way through 9S’ chest, one that won’t leave no matter now tightly he pulls his cloak.

“I’ve never met a half-demon before,” 2B says again. “...But if they’re anything like you…”

Her fist unlocks itself, and with uncharacteristic trepidation, she places her hand on his shoulder. 9S doesn’t anticipate just how warm it was, its gentle weight more comforting than his old coat.

“Well...I think you’re a good person.”

9S smiles, just a little, and leans into her, his head resting on her shoulder.

“...Thanks, 2B.”


End file.
